Only One
by The Hoodie
Summary: Don has car troubles and Charlie comes to pick him up: a seemingly normal situation. Until a criminal Don and his team thought they put behind bars seeks revenge by playing dirty. 'How much damage could one do' CWDA.
1. Prologue

**Title: Only One  
**

**Disclaimers:Sadly, Numb3rs is not my property nor will it ever be.  
**

**Summary: Don has car troubles and Charlie comes to pick him up:a seemingly normal situation. Until a criminal Don and his team thought they put behind bars seeks revenge by playing dirty. '**How much damage could one do?' **CWDA. **

**Warnings: Mild language and violence in later chapters.  
**

**This story is set post season 3, but you know, I'm not gonna lie: I really hate Liz so for my purposes, she's not working at the FBI. Sorry. **

Charlie's bike skidded to halt in front of his house. _His _house. The warm sunshine of yesterday had descended into a dark, storm-cloud blown sky that seemed ominously dark in the distant.

As Charlie jumped off the bike and made his way to the front door, his cell phone began to ring. Stumbling with his backpack and handfuls of folders, he fumbled for his phone. Quickly looking at the call display before he picked up, he discovered that -no surprise- it was Don.

'Hey,' he answered cheerfully.

'Hey, Chuck. Whatcha doin'?' Don asked casually.

Charlie began walking toward the door again, cradling the phone against his shoulder. 'I just got home, why?'

'Oh, no reason. But hey, I'm free tonight, so I thought I'd swing by to visit my favorite brother.'

_And only_, thought Charlie ruefully. 'Uh, ya, sure, that sounds great. Dad's making... uh, I don't know, kebobs or something. Ya, I'll look forward to it.'

'Great, bud. I'll see you then, alright?' Don sounded distracted.

'Yup, ok, see ya.' Charlie said, then flipped the phone shut. He opened the great wooden front door of the house and stepped in to the smell of cooking meat.

'Charlie.' Alan walked into the front room with a skewer and a red bell pepper.

'Whoa. I come in peace.' Charlie joked. Alan smiled as he gazed out the door to the almost black clouds. I hope it doesn't rain on the new paint... How stupid are you, painting before a storm?

'Ooh, looks bad.' He commented absently as he returned to the kitchen. Charlie threw his books and bag down on the couch and heading to the kitchen as well. He took in the aromatic scent of roasting peppers and beef. _It is so nice to have a cook in the family_, Charlie mused.

'So how was school today?' Alan asked over a skillet.

'Well, not bad by any means. There was-' Charlie was interrupted by a loud ringing in his pants pocket. He pulled out the phone and saw it was Don again. 'Hold on, Dad. It's Don.' Charlie flipped open the phone and answered.

'Charlie, man, I got car trouble.'

'You're talking to the wrong person, Don.' Charlie said while smiling.

'Oh, yeah, I forgot, you drive a bike to work, don't you?' Don teased, Charlie could almost the smile on his face too. 'Anyway, I can't get the thing to start at all, and, hell, it's Friday evening, I'm beat. Can you or Dad just come pick me up at the office?'

Charlie looked at Alan. 'Uh, ya, sure. I'll be there soon.'

Alan watched as Charlie shut his phone, waiting for an explanation.

Charlie shrugged at his father with the same errant smile Alan had always adored. 'Car troubles.'

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Charlie jumped into his little, fuel-efficient Honda and pulled out of the driveway. In the distance the stunning thunderheads spiked lightning like darts. The rain hadn't fallen yet, but the clouds threatened. Charlie had always been impartial to thunderstorms. As a child, they had scared him, sending him to his brother's room to hind under the covers with Don. That was usually when Don kicked him out.

Charlie smiled somewhat sardonically to himself. Him and Don had grown up on totally different planets, and here they were now, working together to rid L.A. Of its most ruthless criminals.

Sure enough, the grey and dark clouds above let one tiny drop fall to the ground. The one lone drip of condensed water in the air fell alone, away from the pack. It was the first to descend to the unknown abyss below the hovering clouds. As it fell what seemed like an eternity it appeared a small offset to the observer. It was only one drop of rain, of water, a tear falling from the heavens. Only one drop, how much damage could one do? As soon it hit the ground though, the drops above knew that it was safe to go. Then the torrential downpour would begin. All it took was one small, tiny catalyst to get things moving in a completely different direction.

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A/N- Sorry for the short length. / I just wanted the first chapter to be short and sweet, kind of ominous. This is my first fic, I'm not too strong in this whole writing deal, so I need all the help I can get! Please let me know what you think of it- good or bad, everything helps a writer! Reviews are like candy- or should I say Charlie! I promise Charliewhumping soon with a helping of angst.


	2. The Race

**Title: Only One  
**

**Disclaimers: Sadly, Numb3rs is not my property nor will it ever be.  
**

**Summary: Don has car troubles and Charlie comes to pick him up:a seemingly normal situation. Until a criminal Don and his team thought they put behind bars seeks revenge by playing dirty. '**How much damage could one do?' **CWDA. **

**Warnings: Mild language and violence in later chapters.**

Don sat in the lobby of the L.A. FBI offices. Megan, Colby, and David had all gone for the weekend, and the FBI was quickly becoming empty. Sitting on the ground floor, Don saw the seemingly sudden downpour begin through the glass windows. He was glad he hadn't decided to pop the hood of the black SUV he owned. He watched as people took deep breaths before plunging through the rain and sprinting to their own vehicles _in working condition_.

_Come on, Charlie_, Don thought impatiently. He had been waiting downstairs for what seemed like hours, but in reality had only been 30 minutes. Anyway, it still never took a half hour to get to the FBI. _Traffic must be hell if he's _this_ late_. Don scowled. He contemplated whether to call Charlie or not, but didn't want to annoy his little brother.

Five minutes later Don sighed and reached for his cell. Right before he hit send, though, a tap on his shoulder disturbed him. Don turned his head and was met with the sight of special agent sniper Ian Edgerton.

'Can't get enough of the FBI, I see, Eppes.' Ian said good-naturedly as he crossed in front of Don and sat beside him. Don flipped his phone shut and turned to Ian as well.

'Car broke,' Don answered, a smile playing on his lips. 'The damn thing sounds like a cat stuck in this rain.'

Ian grinned and said, 'Well, I'm heading home right now, and your place isn't really out of my way, so if you want, I could give you a ride.'

Don ran a hand through his hair; a bad habit that began during the freshman biology exam and just sort of stuck. 'Actually, I'm headed to Charlie's, who is actually supposed to be picking me up. I don't know why he's not here yet. I called him...' Don glanced at his watch in impatience. 'nearly fourty minutes ago...'

Ian furrowed his eyebrows and the mechanical and distant brain inside his head got to work. _It only takes, at the most, twenty minutes to get here from Charlie's, and that's if the traffic is bad... Weather? Maybe. Plus traffic? Could equal twenty minutes late... Maybe._

'Well, give him a call,' Ian said. 'And if it turns out he played an early April Fool's joke on you, I can take you.'

Don finally conceded and once again dialed Charlie's cell phone.

_One. Two. Three._ Don counted the rings. _Four- 'Hello. You've reached Charles Eppes, but I'm not available right now, so please leave a name and number and I'll get back to you as fast as physically and astronomically possible.'_

'Hey, Chuck,' Don said. 'It's Don, give me a ring if you get this soon. I take it you're not picking me up. Ian Edgerton's hitching me a ride, so you don't have to come. See ya.'

Ian stood up and his cool, calm, collected dark eyes searched Don's.

Don met Ian's gaze for a moment as he stood up too. It had always amazed him how much depth those almost black eyes had. Ian was a hunter, tracker, that killed clean and got the job done efficiently. Don had long been impressed with Ian's marksmanship and ability to keep a clear and lucid head in the most stressing of situations. _I guess it has something to do with his job. One shudder of fear or trickle of sweat and you could be shooting your witness with a bullet 1200 feet per second rather than the criminal two inches to the witness's right. _

'Ready?' Ian called as he headed for the double glass doors. Don nodded and stopped in front of door. _One, two... three. _He thought as both he and Ian burst through the doors and into the buckets of rain._Scratch that. It looks like someone scooped up the Pacific and dumped it on L.A._

Both the FBI agents ran to Ian's car, with Don trailing behind following Ian. There was a _beep_ and Ian's black sedan's light flashed as the doors unlocked. Don jumped in shotgun while Ian got in the driver's seat. Don couldn't help noticing the irony of his last thoughts. Really, the rain falling now had come from the evaporated water of the Pacific and other bodies of water. The lighter-than-air evaporated water then rose steadily up into the sky, forming tiny groups of water in the sky, eventually becoming clouds. Then one day, all the ionized particles and air just burst to the ground like the shot of a pistol signaling the start of race. And all those seemingly harmless drops of water fell like runners coming out of their blocks.

Don watched the raindrops race across the window and leave tiny rivulets of water in their wake. They all seemed to be racing for the end of the glass pane just to be shot off onto another car. It was an inevitable, circular process. As a kid, Don had always picked a raindrop that would win. Usually it was the biggest ones that made it to the finish line first. But not always. Sometimes the small, tiny ones would surprise you by eating up other tiny drops and forming a behemoth that sprinted for first place. Something in Don's guy seemed uneasy. He felt strange, not sad, but wary and a small prick of irrational fear throbbed.

It was amazing how all those tiny drops, the ones in the sky and the ones on the car windows, how insignificant they seemed by themselves. How much damage could one drop do? But when coupled with all their other allies, one was a force to be reckoned with.

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'Hey, why don't you come in for dinner?' Don asked he unfastened his seatbelt. They had just pulled into Charlie's driveway.

'No, no, I don't want to impede. I'll just go home now.' Ian answered quickly, raising his hands.

'Aw, come on, I owe you something for driving me, come on. Besides, if I'm in your debt, I'll have to be your partner the next stakeout.'

Ian grinned. 'I'm just coming in, then I'm leaving.'

Don smiled and shrugged, then opened the door and ran to the front porch. He opened the door to the wafting tell tale signs of Alan's homemade dinners. Ian stepped inside and turned to Don with his eyebrow raised.

'On second thought, dinner is sounding very good. I thought Charlie would be cooking.'

Don almost burst out laughing at the comment. The one and only time Ian had ever come over, Charlie had baked- well, attempted to bake- lasagna. Somehow he had managed to mix up whipped cream with ricotta cheese. _What an ill-fated day for the poor math professor_, Don thought.

'Dad?' Don called into the kitchen, hanging his jacket up.

'Donnie? Hey, I just made-' Alan stepped into the living room and stopped at the sight of Ian.

'Ian! How good to see you again! I'm glad to have you over.'

Ian nodded. 'It's my pleasure,'

The three of them made their way into the kitchen and sat down at the dinner table where steaming kabobs loaded with beef, roasted peppers and veggies awaited consumption.

'Well, eat up.' Alan said while he poured himself some water. Don and Ian both glanced at each other and smiled in unison. Together they sat down and began to eat the delicious food.

Alan sat down and was about to pull his chair up to the table when he stopped dead. 'Where's Charlie?'

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**40 minutes earlier**

Charlie was pulling off the highway to reach the FBI offices. The black behemoth of an SUV behind him had been tailing him since he got on the freeway. He had hoped that with this exit, the SUV would keep going. Charlie sighed and saw that, to his dismay, the SUV was also coincidentally going the same way as him. _What are the odds of that?_ Charlie thought, then he actually figured it out.

Before he could dwell on the subject any longer, though, he felt a huge impact hit his tiny little Prius and his body was thrown forward as time slowed down. Charlie saw the airbag deploy and watched it gain volume before he felt it. The bone-crushing slam of the airbag stunned him for a moment. Before he could gather his wits, though, the driver's door was wrenched open and a man wearing black clothes rudely grabbed at the safety belt.

'Shit,' The man said when he couldn't maneuver around the blasted airbag to undo the belt. He withdrew a knife from his side and instead just slashed savagely through the seatbelt. In his hastiness, the knife clipped Charlie in the chest.

That gathered his wits.

Charlie gasped in pain and was unceremoniously pulled out of the car. The man had a hold around Charlie's neck, the knife still in his other hand. While Charlie was held in this awkward position, he got to see the full extent of the damage. He saw that the entire back end of his little car was smashed in like a paper cup yet the sturdy SUV behind had only a fender-bender.

_The SUV... Oh my gosh. They- they hit me. But-_ Charlie thought frantically.

'Good evening Dr. Eppes. You're gonna take a little trip with us, ok? Is that clear?' The man tightened his hold on Charlie's neck while another man in black fumbled through the Prius looking for Charlie's belongings.

'Crystal,' Charlie choked out.

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A/N- Ok, so things are moving along now. Thank you so very much for the reviews. They help. Also, a big big thank-you to Special Agent Don Eppes for informing me Charlie drives a Prius. I wasn't sure, so I just guessed a Honda. Thanks for the note! I wanted to include Edgerton because I just think he's pretty cool. Next chapter- charliewhumping!


	3. Lightning strikes

**Title: Only One  
**

**Disclaimers: Sadly, Numb3rs is not my property nor will it ever be.  
**

**Summary: Don has car troubles and Charlie comes to pick him up: a seemingly normal situation. Until a criminal Don and his team thought they put behind bars seeks revenge by playing dirty. '**How much damage could one do?' **CWDA. **

**Warnings: Mild language and violence.**

The man holding Charlie tightened his hold around the professor's throat. Charlie coughed, and discovered that his airway had been cut off. _I can't breathe! _Horrible scenarios played through his mind like movie being fast-forward. Death, slow, slow death. _Oh, god... _The pouring rain had long since soaked through his clothes and Charlie could already feel his skin shivering.

'Get him in the car now!' shouted the other man who had been rummaging in Charlie's smashed up little car. _It's amazing_, Charlie thought, _how easily that sturdy, dependable car can just... die._

'Let's move.' The other man again shouted. The man holding Charlie jerked him to the black SUV. Charlie sputtered, feeling himself turn fainter and fainter as his brain was deprived of oxygen.

'Christ, you're killing him.' The other man said, laughing.

'Oh,' the man holding Charlie replied dumbly, loosening his hold. Charlie took a much-needed breath of air. His teeth rattled in the cold as he was literally dragged to the side door of the SUV. The other, supposedly the leader, opened the door and the guy holding Charlie tossed him in roughly. As soon as he was free, Charlie bolted for the open door.

'Ah-ah, sorry professor, we're taking a field trip. _Now sit down_.' The leader said coldly, punctuating his last command by pulling out a pistol and pressing the barrel against Charlie's forehead. He heard the safety click and knew that they weren't kidding.

'A-alright,' Charlie coughed out. He shakily moved back and sat on the black leather seat. As soon as he had sat, the man pulled his arm back and the next thing Charlie felt was the collision of the menacing gun and his head.

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'What do you mean Charlie's missing?' Megan's voice rang out shrilly in the FBI bullpen. Colby immediately stopped typing and David looked up from the case file he had been absorbed in.

'Alright. I can be there in ten.' Megan slowly set the phone back into the receiver and turned to face the team.

'Charlie's missing?' Colby asked, his usually commanding and deep voice now hitched and unsure. 'What's going on?'

'Don doesn't know. He said he'd explain when I got to Charlie's house.' Megan announced while putting her coat on and straightening her desk.

David met Colby's eyes and nodded. 'You mean when _we _get there.' he said.

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Don sat on the front room couch, his head in his hands, when the team entered.

'Hey,' he called softly and stood up. He looked shot and tired, almost to the breaking point, but Megan and the team knew that nothing in the whole world could stop him from trying to find Charlie. Nothing could stop them either. Although Charlie didn't have a FBI badge or carry a gun, he was still part of the team. His invaluable consultations had earned him respect but that was not only it. Charlie was a teammate, but also a friend. He was the 'Whizkid', their funny little professor, and a great source of frenetic energy.

'No news yet?' Megan asked quietly. Her profiler's eyes spoke more than words. She offered consolation in those green eyes, eyes that could peer deep within one's soul and pick out what even you didn't what to admit.

'No, I didn't even know he was gone until-' Don began but Megan interrupted.

'Don, start from the beginning. How did you even know he was gone?' She and Colby and David sat down and faced Don.

Don informed his team how his car had broke and then how Ian gave him a ride home. 'It was when we got home when Dad noticed Charlie wasn't here either. We tried his cell, but the phone service said it the number had been disconnected. Now, I mean, it's been more than twelve hours. We checked Calsci, the FBI buildings, Amita's, everywhere.' Don ran a hand through his hair.

'Alright, let's get an APB on his car or- or track the GPS.' Megan said uncertainly. The FBI dealt with missing persons cases, kidnapping (_No! Charlie _hasn't_ been kidnapped!_ Megan told herself), and other far more disturbing files, but none of those had hit home as much as this. This was their Charlie, and whoever was messing with them would have Hell to pay.

'Is your Dad or Ian here now?' David said, trying to keep his voice level. _Charlie's fine. He just didn't call. He's out at lunch, or a friend's. He's fine. _

Don shook his head. 'They went to pick up Amita and Larry. Hopefully they can get some help there.' He sighed and rubbed his eyes.

'We should check Charlie's laptop, his office.' Colby said quietly._Whoever's messing with the Whizkid is going to answer to me. _

'I already have,' Don answered. 'But maybe you can spot something I've missed. Frankly, right now, I'm doubting myself. Double-checking sounds like a good idea right now.'

Megan nodded. 'I'll meet up with you guys there. I'm gonna pull a few strings and see if I can figure out where Charlie's car is.'

The others nodded and stood up together. While each one put on a coat and stepped outside, they all shared the same thoughts; whoever did this to Charlie would pay. The downpour of yesterday had ended, but the clouds still dabbled in the sky, as if they still held some power, just waiting to unleash it. The dreary gray sky couldn't have mirrored Don's feelings any more. _This can't be happening. No. Not Charlie. This is all my fault. I should have known something was up. I should have known, dammit! _

The clouds overhead churned, twisting in amongst themselves and fighting some unknown force. Rain seemed imminent, and just as Don thought things couldn't get worse, a flash of lightning bolted through the sky, leaving a stunning wake of silence that was only interrupted by the inevitable ear-splitting rattle of thunder.

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Charlie wearily tried to open his eyes, but to his annoyance found his eyelids weighed a thousand pounds- each. _Where am I..._ He thought, but then it all rushed back to him. The SUV hitting his car and his kidnappers knocking him unconscious. He didn't know how long it had been since he was last awake, or what time of day it was. All Charlie knew was that he needed to get out or the overwhelming fear in his heart might overcome his rational thoughts.

When he looked around, all he saw was utter and total darkness. It was then he realized the darkness wasn't a lack of lighting, it was induced by a blindfold tied around his eyes. The darkness was all-encompassing and put Charlie off a little, causing the flutter in his chest to stutter. The room he was in was cold as the air pressed in around him viciously. He shivered and realized that his clothes were still damp on his cold and clammy skin. _Breath, Charlie, just stay calm._Saying was easier than doing, unfortunately, and Charlie tried to quell the quick _thump-thump_ of his racing heart. _Focus._ Charlie breathed deeply in, then out. He took an assessment of his body; he was obviously blindfolded, but to his surprise he found that his feet had been stripped of their shoes and socks. He tried flexing his arms, but discovered that his hands were bound cruelly behind his back in an uncomfortable and painful position.

Charlie reasoned with himself as to what to do, but the only choice in his mind was to escape. Slowly, he got to his feet. For some reason, his body was weak and sluggish as he struggled up to a standing position.

He leaned back against the wall. He took deep, calming breaths in an attempt to beat the fear rising in his throat like bile.

_Focus, Charlie. Focus. _

_What do I have to focus on now except my impending death?! _The panic in him shrieked louder than his sense.

_Focus. If you got in, there must be a way out. Yes, there must be a way out. What would Donnie do in a situation like this? He wouldn't be afraid, he would be brave. Don would find a way out and would beat the bad guys. Don is strong. I have to be strong. _

Charlie nodded his head to himself, swallowed down his fear and began to walk along the walls, feeling with his hands behind his back.

_Focus._

Finally, in what seemed like an hour, but in reality he knew was only a minute or two, Charlie's hands stumbled upon a draft coming from the wall. He felt gingerly along the area with his fingertips, finding a crack, then a metal door handle. He tried opening the door, already knowing what the outcome would be. As expected, the door didn't budge.

Charlie sucked in a breath.

_Just focus._

He continued walking around the walls, and eventually, two corners later, he knew he was in a square room. With nothing left to do but wait, he slid down what felt like a cold, metallic wall. The floor was frigid to the touch, and Charlie felt that if he could see, his breath would be condensing before him. Just as soon as he touched the floor, he seemed to lose his determination to survive. Charlie realized just how bad of condition he was in. He felt cold and knew the onsets of sickness when the came and he was definitely not up to standard. His body felt wasted and tired, yet too agitated and uppity to relax. He tried to get his mind on other things.

_Focus._

It was too cold in this room for it to be above-ground, and it was too big to be a freezer or refrigerator, Charlie reasoned and tried to think his way out of this one, but for once, his logic and genius mind failed him. He could find no solution to his predicament. He felt so tired, and so, so very cold. His clothes were wet and his skin was freezing.

So he lie waiting on the cold floor, trying to hold onto the one consolation that kept him going. _Surely Don and Dad are looking for me. Don will find me. Don will find me... Don will find... me..._

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_

Colby sighed and sat down in Charlie's chair. They had gone through the entirety of his office, even looked through what they could of Charlie's safeguarded and encrypted laptop. Nothing stood out of place, nothing screamed 'I'M MISSING', and nothing pointed to Charlie's location.

'There's nothing here. I mean, I don't what else to do, where else to look!' Don said, exasperated. 'We've tried every approach. I just don't know.'

Megan glanced at her boss before patting him on the shoulder. 'Okay, so we've done everything we can here. Why don't we go home to your father and Ian, and talk to Amita and Larry. Maybe they have some insights we don't.' At Don's hesitant look, she continued. 'You said it yourself, there's nothing else here to find.'

Don scowled, but finally agreed. The team got into Megan's SUV and headed to the Eppes household. Don stared out the window at the arcing lightning bolts that scattered the horizon.

_Another reminder of Charlie..._ He thought, dejected.

Don reminisced about a time he had been to Charlie's:

_It was a rough week. After playing cat and mouse with a serial rapist, we finally managed to hunt down the sick son of a bitch. I didn't feel like heading back to my cruddy apartment, so instead I decided to stop by Chuck's place. When I pulled into the driveway, I didn't know that Dad had gone on a golfing tournament with his buddies. I didn't know that he wouldn't be back for another three days. I also hadn't known that Charlie had had about as lousy a week as me. _

_I walked in the door. _

_'Charlie?' I called, and found him sitting on the floor in front of the couch, with his laptop on his lap. _

_'You know, Chuck, most people sit_on_ the couch, not beside it.' I said, smiling. _

_Charlie just sighed and resumed his staccato typing. I frowned; something was obviously wrong with my little bro. _

_'Charlie?' I questioned, as I sat down beside him. 'What's up?'_

_Charlie's fingers stopped their constant motion. He turned his face towards mine and I was met with two puppy dog, brown, sorrow-filled eyes that spoke volumes. _

_'Professor Bennet's dead.' He answered simply, his voice a myriad of emotions; sadness, confusion, loneliness. He sounded lost. _

_'Aw, buddy, I'm so sorry.' Bennet had been Charlie's friend since he began teaching at Calsci. Being a physics professor, the two had always gotten along especially well. _

_'But you didn't come over here for that. Do you need help on a case?' He asked before I dwell on the subject any longer. _

How come you always thing I visit you for work? _I thought._Maybe because I _do _ only visit him for work..._ I realized then how terrible of a big brother I was. I didn't always think about Charlie the person. Usually I just thought about Charlie the FBI consultant. _

_'You know what? I just thought I'd come over to spend some time with you.' I said. Well, it really wasn't a lie... I guess. _

_Charlie nodded, unconvinced. 'I'm not the best company right now, I think.' He said, his voice dripping with sadness. _

_'Hey, look let's just grab a beer, and watch the game, alright? Get mind off... things, alright?' Charlie looked like it was the last thing that he wanted to do, but looking into my hopeful eyes, I suddenly heard him answering yes. I felt a flutter of guilt rise up in my heart. I knew I could always get my brother to do what I wanted. That was a perk of having your little brother look up to and worship you... _

_I stood up and went in the kitchen. I retrieved two beers, then just grabbed the whole six-pack. _What the hell? Why not.

_I walked back and handed Chuck one while I sipped mine. _

_Two hours later we had finished more than the six-pack and sat outside on the back porch on the fold-out chairs. Charlie laughed in the silence, even though no one had said anything. I laughed too. It's funny was alcohol does to you._

_In the distance I saw a bright purple, blinding flash of lightning. The light hurt my eyes a bit. _

_'Chuck,' I slurred. 'How does lightning work?' Now, if I had been sober, this question would never, ever, ever have escaped my lips. I had enough sense to know that once Charlie got started on an explanation, it didn't end for a while. _

_'Don't call me Chuck,' Charlie reiterated. 'Well, when a cloud is formed...' He took a breath. Again, what a wonder alcohol is. 'The molecules are stripped of their protons and electrons. The electrons sink to the bottom of the cloud, and the protons to the top. The cloud's molecules are so ionized by then that they cause the air around the cloud to shift their electrons and protons, basically becoming plasma in a way. Now, the ionized air forms 'step ladders' through the surrounding air and finds the most efficient way to the ground. It's never a straight line, because the most efficient way is through the most ionized air. And since the cloud's bottom is full of electrons, they are electrically pulled the protons in the Earth's ground. When the step ladder finally reaches a satisfactory destination, such as a tree, or a person, or a rooftop, there is a momentary path between the cloud and the destination. The thing that causes the lightning is the instantaneous, rapid-fire connection of the electrons in the cloud to the protons in the destination. Then boom! Lightning! Did you know that lightning strikes at temperatures hotter than the surface of the Sun? And that-'_

_'CHUCK!' I shouted, laughing. 'Shut up!' _

Now Don longed just to hear the voice of his brother, even if it _was_ about math.

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A/N- So things are moving along. Again, thanks to all the readers who took the time to review, I appreciate it! I had fun with this chapter, especially explaining lightning, which I find to be a fascinating subject! Next chapter: Charlie meets his kidnapper and things go downhill.


	4. Just The Beginning

**Title: Only One  
**

**Disclaimers: Sadly, Numb3rs is not my property nor will it ever be.  
**

**Summary: Don has car troubles and Charlie comes to pick him up: a seemingly normal situation. Until a criminal Don and his team thought they put behind bars seeks revenge by playing dirty. '**How much damage could one do?' **CWDA. **

**Warnings: Mild language and violence.**

Charlie was woken forcefully as rough and uncaring hands lifted him up from a curled position on the floor.

'What's going on?' croaked Charlie, his voice dry from lack of use.

The unknown person did not answer, but Charlie could tell from his handling that it was a man, and not one in the best of moods either. Charlie swayed on his feet but the man had a firm grip on him. He was not only cold now, but steaming hot. His teeth chattered but he could feel sweat dripping down his face. Yup, he was definitely getting sick, and at officially the worst possible time to ever get sick; when he was kidnapped.

'Dr. Eppes, thirty-one years old, graduated high school at the age of thirteen, math professor at Calsci, consults for the FBI, for your _brother_at the FBI. I can see that you're nothing short of a genius, Charles.'

The speaker was not the one holding him, but someone to his left. The speaker's voice was surprisingly light, and if it were under different circumstances, Charlie would pass off the man as a gentle, kind soul.

'I'll get straight to the point for you, Dr. Eppes.' The man ripped the blindfold from Charlie's head. At once he squinted, not used to anything other than complete darkness. He at once took in his surroundings, still squinting. His head throbbed painfully from the hit before, and his chest was aching dully. After blinking several times, the world finally came into focus and the light became bearable. He at last found that he was in a small room. The walls were concrete and were lit only by one solitary, single light bulb that shed its dim light upon the room. Nestled in the ceiling was which a sinister-looking metal hook that only jump started Charlie's panicked heart. There was a door at the far end of the room- opposite Charlie, where he had wandered before. Charlie was right, wherever he was, it was deathly cold, for he could see his breath coming out his harsh gasps in front of him.

Then Charlie observed his kidnapper before him. The man dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans. He had messy dirty-blond hair and a haggard face with sunken cheeks. Two, perfectly clear blue eyes stared back at Charlie. Two pools that seemed to open their hearts to anyone who looked in. His skin was pale but that was not frightened Charlie. Despite his waxy appearance, Charlie noticed he was well-built with muscles bulging in his shirt. This was never good news.

'I'm not going to kill you.' The man said slowly, matter-of-factly. His voice was flat and emotionless now.

Charlie was taken aback. His fears increased tenfold and every fiber of his being was screaming panic and mass pandemonium in his mind.

_Focus. _

Then what the hell _was _he going to do?! Play hopscotch?

_Keep your head, Charlie. Focus. _

Charlie didn't want to think about what would happen to him.

'Why?' Charlie asked, hoping his voice didn't betray his fear.

'My name is Adam Doyle.'

_Ohhhhh, shit._

Charlie knew who his mystery man was. Adam Doyle was the brother of Richard Doyle, who the FBI team had recently put behind bars, for life, for rape and murder, only with the supreme help of their resident math geek Charlie.

'You don't have to do this, Adam.' Charlie said quietly.

'No, that's just it. I _do_. If I want to get my brother back, I need you, Dr. Eppes.' Adam spoke conversationally and again Charlie was struck by how nonchalant and carefree his light and pleasant voice seemed.

'I don't understand-' Charlie stopped mid sentence. He _did _understand. Adam wanted to trade him, Charlie, for Richard Doyle. He was going to hold him for ransom.

Adam nodded and a sarcastic smile spread to his lips. 'They don't call you genius for nothing, I see?' He laughed softly and walked to the door. After inserting a key, he let in two muscular, intimidating men. They were large and burly, frightening in all black.

Adam rolled his neck and stepped toward Charlie.

'Untie him,' He commanded to the man who held Charlie. The man, with no effort at all, spun Charlie around, and kneaded him into the metal wall. Charlie winced from the nick in his chest while the man practically ripped the rope bindings off him with brute strength. Charlie massaged his sore and red-raw wrists as the man stepped back.

'This is a special treat for me, Dr. Eppes,' Adam said coldly, popping his knuckles menacingly. 'Not only will I get my brother back, but I get to see big brother's face when this is all over.'

Before Charlie could react, Adam had punched him square in the stomach. Charlie doubled over in pain form the powerful blow. He clutched his stomach and fought to stand back up. Before he could, though, Adam kneed him again in the stomach. This time Charlie was brought to his knees in pain. Adam was stronger than he looked, and that was saying something.

Adam brought his foot back and kicked Charlie viciously in the chest. The breath was knocked out of him and he audibly groaned. _No, don't give him that satisfaction._ Charlie gritted his teeth and hardened his body against the wracking kicks.

Adam slammed his foot into Charlie's stomach once more, and this time Charlie felt something wrong. _ Did he just break my ribs?!_ Unimaginable pain flooded through his torso as his thoughts were confirmed.

Again and again Adam kicked Charlie, until his messy hair was strewn about his face. He was breathing hard, but not as hard as Charlie.

Charlie had felt pain before, but this was something new. He had been beaten in high school, but not like this.

This was by a 30 some year old man who was out for revenge.

'Without your help, without your _genius_ mind, nobody would have connected Richie to the case. It's,' Adam raised his leg back and planted a blow in Charlie's abdomen. 'All,' Another savage kick, this time to Charlie's face. 'Your,' Adam picked Charlie up by his collar and punched him in the chest. 'Fault!' Adam screamed and threw Charlie down with the force of an ogre.

Charlie's body reeled with such intense pain as never felt before. His nose was bleeding iron-tasting blood into his mouth and his stomach and back hurt so bad that one, just one tear escaped from his eye. One, then another, they fell afterwards. He couldn't feel anything, anything except the excruciating and all-consuming pain that gripped him like a rag doll.

Adam jerked his head towards Charlie, and two of the men grabbed him under his arms and lifted him up on shaky legs. Charlie almost cried out in pain as his broken ribs were jostled, but he gritted his teeth through it. It was his only weapon available. He had to beat Adam, if not physically, then mentally.

'Ah, a fighter, I see?' Adam said, smiling cruelly at him. 'But not for long, Charles.'

Charlie breathed shallowly as he stared into the bright orbs of Adam's eyes. They were windows into his soul, and right now Charlie looked into those open and mysterious eyes and saw pure hatred.

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Don was in full drive now. Nothing held back. He had given up on pursuing Charlie's disappearnce from a brotherly angle. Now it was time for the FBI agent angle.

'Megan? You get anything on his car?' Don called from his desk where he busy tracking the GPS in the little Prius.

'Not yet, you?' she answered from her desk. Don shook his head as he waited for the page to load. _Damn computer..._

Finally the webpage came up. Don sat up and looked expantantly at the page, seeing where the GPS recorded Charlie's car last.

'What?' He said out loud.

'What is it, Don?' Megan asked, walking over to where Don sat staring confused.

'The last place that Charlie's car is registered is at- his house? I don't get it, I mean, Dad saw him leave, he must have gotten further than the driveway...'

'Unless,' David perked up. 'Someone tampered with the car at his house.'

'Which adds a whole new dynamic to the case.' Colby threw in. 'That would mean this whole thing was pre-meditated.'

Don stopped for a second, reveling in how they were treating his little brother like just another FBI case. Only he wasn't. He meant much more to the members of Don's team than a case.

Megan furrowed her eyebrows at the comment, but had to go to her desk to answer her phone.

Don sighed. 'I- I don't get it. I mean, Charlie doesn't have any enemies, he's a math professor for crying out loud.'

David frowned. 'Maybe it was... a case or something he worked with consulting. Who else does he consult with other than the FBI?'

Don shrugged. 'Your guess is as good as mine. Everybody?'

'Well,' Colby half-smiled. 'I'll check around, see if their were any controversial cases or anything out of the ordinary with any agencies he's worked with recently.'

Megan returned quickly. 'Don, we got a hit on Charlie's car.'

'Ya?' Don stood up. 'Where?'

Megan's face fell slightly. 'Payne's Junkyard. Owner says the back end is totaled and that he was paid in cash to tow it.'

'Alright, well, let's go talk to him, see if he remembers who paid. David, check all the hospitals for admitted patients for Charlie.'

David nodded as Megan and Don left the offices.

Colby sighed and turned to David. 'We're gonna find him, right?'

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The next time Charlie came to he was laying on the ground, struggling for breath in his bruised body. Something felt wrong in his chest and stomach. Something felt seriously wrong. His torso was on fire. Every time he moved, a sharp pain pulsated through his chest and stomach. Charlie coughed just to get some air into his aching lungs. The pulsating pain sprang to his chest and he coughed in response, which caused him more pain.

Adam laughed and stepped out of the shadowy corner. Charlie had been unaware he was in there until that point. He met Adam's eyes with resentment and hatred. Adam's eyes mirrored the same emotion, but he looked eager, disturbingly eager.

Adam walked to Charlie and picked him up by the collar of his shirt and punched him in the face.

'Good morning, Charles.' Adam said cheerfully. It was then Charlie noticed the other two henchmen standing on either side of the door. Charlie spat the blood out of his face and faced Adam with cold, steely eyes. Adam kneed Charlie upwards in the stomach and he moaned in pain. Every breath now sent sharp needles of pain pricking his chest and stomach.

'I can give you a way out of this, Charles, it doesn't have to end like this. You can walk out of here right now and you can be spared.'

Charlie perked up slightly.

'All you have to do is phone your brother, and tell him my demands.'

Charlie's heart sank. If there were demands, they were probably outrageous. But still, he asked, 'What demands?'

'Just tell Donnie that Richard Doyle will be released in exchange for your life. It's simple isn't it? If I have to lose a brother forever, than Don should have to as well. If I get my brother back, then Don does too.'

Charlie knew that they couldn't let Richard Doyle out of prison. The man was a serial rapist and had already murdered dozens of innocent children after raping them. He was a threat to society, and Charlie didn't what he would do if he were responsible for letting a monster out of prison.

'Your brother is a monster and deserves to rot in Hell.' Charlie said ruthlessly, spitting the words out of his mouth as if they were filth.

Adam breathed in deeply and the breath out. Although he remained calm on the outside, Charlie could see the anger burning in those watery eyes.

'Then I've got a special treat for you, Dr. Eppes.'

Adam motioned to his henchmen and they stepped up to Charlie. They reached behind him and untied his hands.

_I'm- I'm free?_Charlie thought incredulously. But before he could think on freedom any longer, his hands were tied up again, this time in front of him. The two men lifted Charlie up and strung his hands on the hook. Charlie screamed in agony as pain beyond anything he imagined surged through his torso. Adam smiled and slowly walked to a table that wasn't there the last time Charlie had been awake. He seemed to be savoring the moment.

Charlie observed with horror what was on the table. There sat tools of every kind of horror upon the metal table. There was what looked a sinister whip and sharp, unidentifiable metal objects; cruel objects of... Charlie gulped, torture.

Adam ran his hand along the weapons. His fingers touched and went past a long, serrated knife, but then they fluttered back. He picked it up and with a swift motion, sliced Charlie's shirt off. He then exchanged the knife for the malicious whip. A smile spread across Adam's face as his eyes floated over the whip. It was a work of art: The sleek black handle led up to a decent length of plain, thick leather whip. Inter weaved in the leather where sharpened shards of metal or glass, Charlie couldn't tell, not that he wanted to know, anyway. On the end was was a piece of metal shaped like a fishing hook. Like a thick fishing hook with a shallow-lipped hook.

'I didn't want to do this, Charles.' began Adam. Charlie highly doubted that statement. 'But your... disobedience leave me no other choice.' Charlie's eyes widened.

Charlie swallowed. He hadn't ever really afraid of death. Now was no different, either. He knew it was his time. He knew that Adam would drag this out for as long as possible, for his pleasure. He knew that it would hurt like hell and that this is what he had to do unless wanted a criminal on the streets. He wouldn't do anything for Adam, and no amount of pain could make him betray those he cared about. He wasn't afraid of dying, he was afraid of the pain. He never wanted to die like this, so suddenly and without having said good-bye to anyone.

Adam stepped up to Charlie and spun him around so that his back faced him. Adam leaned in and whispered, 'Welcome to hell, Charles.'

With that he drew his arm back and the whip took what seemed like ages to fall on Charlie's soft, exposed, and vulnerable flesh. His eyes widened but then cringed in anticipation for what was to come in the next split second.

The body of the whip came down first, tearing the flesh with the shards of metal and glass. Then the hook bit into his skin. First it went directly in, then the lipped hook literally 'hooked' onto Charlie's skin. But the force was so great that instead it just ripped right through the his skin. It was like hooking a fish, but then making the hook rip clean through from cheek to lip.

Charlie didn't hold back now. He screamed as Adam flicked the blood off the whip. He had thought his chest hurt before; it was nothing compared to this new pain. Without a moments hesitation, Adam brought the whip down a second time, then a third. The pain was just as horrific as the first. Charlie danced on his bare feet, trying futilely to ease the pain in his back. The lashes kept coming relentlessly, and Charlie's screams of agony continued just as frequently. After Charlie had lost count of the hits, it seemed he would die from pain, in fact he was praying for it. His prayers remained unanswered though, as the whip rained down mercilessly.

Adam then stopped abruptly. Charlie could hear his own hoarse, shallow breathing as well as Adam's. Adam handed the whip off to one of the two other men.

'Chance, have a go,' Adam said and stepped back to view the scene. Chance spun Charlie back around, and this time he let the whip fall on Charlie's stomach and chest. The screams grew louder.

_Oh, God, just let me die! _Charlie found himself hoping for death. Anything would be better than having to bear this agony. The pain never seemed to lessen, it only grew with the sharp flick of Chance's wrist. Chance then stopped, where he stood breathing heavily from the exertion. A cruel smile formed on his lips and his dark hair was strewn about his forehead. Charlie thought it was over, but Chance drew the whip back again and landed it on Charlie's arms now. Before, it was his torso that got most of the hurt, but now his arms were dripping blood too. Chance lashed at Charlie's legs as well, ripping his jeans and slashing his legs open. It hurt Charlie enough just to endure the pain before and stand on those legs, but now they were searing with pain too, and Chance must have known, because he didn't stop soon.

When he did, he stepped back, breathing hard. He turned Charlie to face the wall again. Chance told the other man, Anthony, to have fun as he handed the whip over. Anthony was made of muscles and held the whip as if it was a toy. He struck out at Charlie's back without effort.

The pain of all the rest combined was nothing compared to this Anthony. Anthony struck on raw skin, and it pained Charlie even more. Anthony then swung the whip around Charlie's side, and this time the whip really did hook him- and it stayed, but not for long. Anthony flicked his wrist back and the whip ripped a deep gash from Charlie's stomach to back. Charlie's screech ricocheted off the walls, but Anthony didn't even stop for a laugh before beating mercilessly away at Charlie He struck him on his back, his side, his front, everywhere. He did the hook trick again, more painfully.

Finally, when it seemed like days had passed, Anthony sat the whip on the table. It was dripping and covered with blood. Underneath Charlie pooled a steadily increasing amount of the crimson life source. The blood dripped from his arms and down his chest. His back and chest wounds flowed down his pants, staining everything red and making the ground underneath slick with blood. Charlie's feet slipped in the blood and skidded forward. He was only hanging on his hands and raw arms. The rough rope dug into his wrists deeper and Charlie quickly tried to stand. His weak legs pulled himself up wobbily.

'Had enough yet, Charles?' Adam said, stepping forward, and turning Charlie around to face him. Adam's grinning face was spotted with splatters of blood- Charlie's blood.

'I have to say, this has been exciting... but lacking.' Adam backed up and Anthony now stepped up to the table. He picked up the long knife that glittered menacingly in the light. He lifted Charlie's arms up off the hook and let him droop wearily to the floor, to slip in his own blood.

Charlie's chest still was on needles, but the whip wounds hurt worse.

Chance and Anthony both exited the room, but Adam stayed behind. He strode over to Charlie's side and crouched down beside the bleeding professor. He tied the blindfold back around Charlie's eyes, making the world lightless again. He leaned close to Charlie's ears, enough so that he could feel his warm breath.

'This is only the beginning.' Adam whispered sinisterly.

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A/N- Awww, I feel terrible... Lotsa Charlie in this chapter, sorry for the Don fans, but you'll get more of him and the team next post. And some Edgerton just for good measure! Good? Bad? Am I too cruel? Too nice??

SORRY for the mix-up in names, it's a long story...


	5. A Man of Heaven and Earth

**Title: Only One  
**

**Disclaimers: Sadly, Numb3rs is not my property nor will it ever be.  
**

**Summary: Don has car troubles and Charlie comes to pick him up: a seemingly normal situation. Until a criminal Don and his team thought they put behind bars seeks revenge by playing dirty. '**How much damage could one do?' **CWDA. **

**Warnings: Mild language and violence.**

Charlie tried to remember what it felt like to not feel pain. It seemed like so long ago that he had left to pick up Don. It seemed even longer ago that they had caught Richard Doyle and put him in prison for life and then some.

Charlie had lost all sense of time. There was only pain now. All-consuming, constant pain that hit his body in never-ending waves. It may have only been an hour since he had been kidnapped. Or it could have been a week. He had no idea; which was unfamiliar territory..

His throat hurt so bad, the dryness telling him that he must have been here for at least a day. A random flash of facts raced through his mind. A human could only live up to three days without hydration. You could go twenty-eight days without food, but only three without liquid. The odds of Don or his team finding him... were too slim to even think about.

Charlie tried to push the discouraging statistics and thoughts from his head, but the only other thing to think about except the pain.

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'Aaron Payne?'

A tall, beefy man with a cap on turned around. He had a brown goatee and a tattoo on his arm. His blue jumpsuit was stained with car oil and gasoline.

'Who wants to know?' He asked gruffly.

'FBI, I'm agent Eppes and this is agent Reeves.' Don answered, flashing his badge.

'I spoke to you on the phone, Mr. Payne. About the Prius.' Megan said.

Payne nodded and walked around the car he was working on. 'Ya, you want to see it?'

'Ya,' Don answered. Payne led them through the large grassy area where hundreds of totaled, dead, burned-out cars rested in the car graveyard. Payne weaved in and out of rows until they found Charlie's blue-gray little Prius. Payne was right, the back end was totaled. But it didn't look like it would have hurt Charlie in the driver's seat. If anything, he may have gotten some whiplash.

'And who did you say paid you to tow this, Mr. Payne?' Don asked, turning from the sight of the wrecked car to face Payne.

'Uh, he didn't give me a name,' Payne answered, shrugging, 'He looked to be about, uh, thirty, had short dark brown hair, he was tan, I don't know maybe 5'10''. Maybe. That's all I remember.'

'Did he say anything unusual, or mention how the car got wrecked?'

'Nah, he just paid me the fee and said to keep the car. Nothing out of the ordinary.'

'Alright, thanks for your cooperation, Mr. Payne. We're just going to search the car now.'

'Whatever I can do,' Payne replied, then left them.

'What do you think?' Megan asked, walking around and studying the car.

Don held up his hands. 'I mean, I don't know. That wasn't Charlie he described, so ya, I think this is something more than just Charlie going missing.'

Megan stopped and opened the driver's door. 'What _do _you think it was? Kidnapping?'

'I don't know at this point.' Don sighed and looked inside too. 'I mean, who would really want to kidnap... Charlie...' Don drifted off, staring at the seatbelt.

'Hey, what's this?' The seatbelt had been cut, and the airbag had blown out, obviously. Don reached in his pocket and put on a latex glove. He moved the cut seatbelt and stopped dead.

'Don? What? What is it?' Megan asked when she noticed Don's skin pale. 'Don?' She moved him aside and saw what had made him lose his color.

The cut end of the seatbelt had a small patch of crimson blood on it.

'Oh my God,' Megan put a hand over her mouth. 'You don't think it's... Charlie's?'

Don blanched and mimicked Megan. 'Let's hope not.' He stood up and tried to gather his emotions and put his FBI face back on. Finally, he let a breath out and turned to Megan, who was standing still.

'Well, an EMT could have cut the belt, and maybe Charlie had gotten injured in the wreck.' Don said, trying to put anything in the still air.

'That doesn't explain why we couldn't find him in any hospitals. Even if he wasn't injured, it's procedure to bring someone to the hospital... Don, I think something else is going on here.'

Don knew too, but saying it would make it real. He couldn't say it. Not about his little brother who he was supposed to protect and keep safe. Not Charlie, who hadn't chosen this life. He was only a math professor. It was Don who let him get used to helping out around the FBI. It was Don who caused someone to take his little brother away. If Don had kept his brother where he belonged, at a chalkboard with an iPod, then he would still be here, driving his Prius to work. Saying all these things would make it real. Make Charlie being gone real. Charlie wasn't missing, he had been kidnapped.

Instead, Don answered, 'I know, Megan.'

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Amita sat staring at her combinatorics paper numbly. How could she ever focus on math at a time like this. Charlie had now been missing for nearly 72 hours. She at first thought that Charlie had only forgotten to inform someone as he left. But when Don called and said he had found Charlie's Prius wrecked, all hope seemed to vanish in Amita's heart. She had to believe that Charlie was still okay, though. If she didn't, then somehow, he _wouldn't_ be okay.

Amita let he head fall in her hands as she struggled to fight back the threatening tears. _Charlie's okay. He's going to be alright._ She took a deep breath and tried to calm the sea of emotions. It had only been a year, just a year, since they had begun seeing each other. Now, Amita couldn't imagine life without Charlie the math savant. Not only was he a genius in his field, but he was Amita's boyfriend. She suddenly found herself wishing they had done more together, spent more time together.

_No, _Amita told herself firmly. _Charlie is okay!_

Just then, there was a soft knock on the door as Larry poked his head into Amita's office. Calsci had long been empty of its students, eager to escape after classes.

'Amita...' Larry called softly, stepping into the sun-bathed room. 'How are you holding up?'

Amita didn't answer as Larry approached her. She brought her head up and a tear streaked down her face. 'Larry, he's going to be alright, isn't he?' She asked stupidly, when she knew Larry didn't know any more about the situation than she did.

Larry embraced Amita and spoke soothingly. 'Of course he is, he's probably at a short-notice math conference and was so excited he forgot to tell us.'

Amita smiled and wiped away her tears. It did sound like something Charlie was bound to do.

_We can only hope..._ Larry thought sadly.

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'Any news, guys?' Don called as he returned to the FBI bullpen. He met the dejected faces of his team. _Apparently not,_ he thought.

'Well, Charlie hasn't been admitted to any surrounding hospitals, and there weren't any records of accidents involving his car.' David said.

'Ya, and I can't find anything in any cases he was involved in. I looked up on all controversial ones, and it doesn't seem if anybody would want to get revenge for anything he did.'

'What did you find out about the paint, Don?' Megan asked, taking her glasses off. When the two had inspected Charlie's car, they discovered a smear of black paint on the rear end, where the other car likely hit Charlie's.

'Well, it's definitely car paint, that's about all forensics told him. There's no way to pinpoint what make of car it's from or anything...' Don sighed and flopped down at his desk.

Megan spoke up, 'Well, we've got the CSI's looking at Charlie's car right now for anything that doesn't belong to him.'

'CSI's? I didn't know this was even a Federal case.' Don said, turning to Megan, his hands clasped behind his head.

Megan smiled mischievously. 'It's not. But I have a friend who knows a guy...'

David and Colby smiled. 'Any news from them yet?' David inquired.

Megan shook her head and ran a hand through her hair. The eerie silence filled the usually bustling FBI offices. Don was the first to speak.

'I mean, I just don't get it,' he said, frustrated and on his last leg. 'Who would want to do this to Charlie?' He was met with an unexpected answer.

'Don Eppes?' Someone called.

Don flashed a confused face to his teammates before turning around. A secretary from the first floor was standing outside Don's cubicle.

'That's me.' he answered. The secretary nodded and handed over a piece of paper.

_To Agent Don Eppes,_

_You are requested at the Los Angeles Correctional Facility Prison by a Richard Doyle. _

'What's this? It's not signed or anything.' Don passed the hand-written note to his team. Each one furrowed their eyebrows and handed the paper on.

'I don' know, but maybe there's something here... Doyle? Wasn't he the-uh...' David started.

'Rapist? And murderer.' Colby filled in, handing Don the paper back. 'Well, let's go check this out.' He rose and put on his coat. The rest followed suit.

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Don walked into the L.A. Prison expecting to met by some DA or investigator. Instead, he had to show the guards his badge and request for Doyle's cell. The guard pointed them the way and Colby, David, and Megan followed Don.

Although Don's face remained calm and collected on the outside, inside his heart was beating faster and faster with each step. _Why now? Does this have something to do with Charlie?_ At last they found cell number 34511, and requested for a guard to open the barring cell door. With a beep and a clank, the door slid back and Don saw the man he hoped he would never have to see again: Richard Doyle.

Doyle was shaggier than the last time he and Don had met. His dirty blonde hair had grown out to his shoulders and he was sporting a messy beard. His aqua-green eyes, though, were the same as when Don had first seen them. Calm, cool, and even friendly, totally unlike the horrible monster lurking within his heart. The loud orange jumpsuit was the only color in the dank grey cell.

'Agent Eppes,' Doyle greeted, surprised yet still sounding disturbingly cheerful. A grin was plastered on his face as he rose up to greet Don.

The guard stepped in between the two and turned Doyle around roughly. He cuffed Doyle's hands in front and led him out the door. Don and his team followed the guard and Doyle down the gray hallway and into an interrogation room that was lit by only one single measly bulb above a table. The guard set Doyle down in one of the uncomfortable looking metal chairs and nodded to Don. Megan gave Don a reassuring smile and squeezed his shoulder before everyone left the room except Doyle and Don.

'So, I take it you sent me this?' Don said coldly, pulling the note out of his jacket pocket.

Doyle didn't answer, only cocked his head, that eerie smile still plastered on his face.

'No need to get upset, agent Eppes. In fact, I thought I might have some information you would find... valuable.' Doyle's deceptive eyes met Don's for a second. Don searched those cruel green eyes and found truth in them. Slowly, Don took a seat across from Doyle.

'Alright, let's hear it.' he said slowly, nodding his head.

'Well, you may not know this, but I have a brother, Adam. He's a little off his rocker, if you know what I mean.' Doyle laughed.

'Ya, and you're not, you sick son of a bitch?' Don retaliated, his anger rising and patience thinning.

'Ah-ah, Eppes,' Doyle wagged a finger. 'Play nice or little Charlie may see worse days.'

Don thought his heart had stopped. _Charlie? Oh my God, does he- he have Charlie?!_Before he knew what he was doing, Don was flying through the air, reaching for Doyle, anything, just to pummel the snot out of the man who had his little brother.

Doyle pushed back and raised his cuffed hands. 'Easy, Eppes.' He laughed, a sound like metal grating against metal. 'Settle down if you want to know where your brother is.'

Don took a deep breath and sat back down slowly, keeping his eyes on Doyle.

'That's it.' Doyle breathed.

'Where is Charlie, and what have you done to him?' Don asked helplessly, bitterly.

Doyle laughed again. 'Who ever said that _I _had Charlie? How would I have been able to kidnap your brother from inside L.A.'s most guarded prison?'

The pieces came together in Don's mind. He saw how it all fit now. _Of course. Adam._

'Adam has him.' Don said aloud.

'Correct, agent. Now, I'm willing to help you if you help me.' Doyle said more seriously.

Don furrowed an eyebrow and raised his hand. 'What do you mean? There's no way I'm gonna offer you anything. You are in now position to be bargaining right now. You are in here for life, right?' Don said snidely and sarcastically.

'Of course I'm in the position to bargain! I alone know the whereabouts of your brother. If you walk out of this room right now, I can promise you you will never see your brother again. Can you live with yourself, knowing that you were the one responsible for dear wittle Charlie's demise?'

Don took a deep breath. Doyle knew how to play him. He was right, he was his only chance at getting Charlie back, and Doyle knew that. There was nothing Don could do but agree.

Don hated himself for saying it, but he did anyway, 'What do you want?'

Doyle smirked. 'That's more like it, Eppes. Well, I want to see parole, at least. And, hm, if things turn out nicely, I'm thinking that I _won't_ be in here for life anymore.'

'No way.' Don said quickly. 'The most you're getting is parole. I'm not gonna see a sick bastard like you out on the streets of L.A.'

Doyle's upset gaze drilled into Don's stubborn one. 'Alright,' Doyle answered slowly. 'Sounds good.'

Now that the formalities were taken care of, Don got down to business. 'Where is Charlie? How do you know that your brother has him?'

'Well, Adam had attended my sentencing six months ago. After the trial when I was being 'escorted' out, he leaned in and whispered something to me; he said 'I'll get you out soon.' I just thought Adam was being a dick like always, but to my surprise, last week I get the strangest letter from him.' Doyle paused and seemed to be examining Don for a moment. 'He wrote that the time had come and he was going to help me get out of prison. He said he had invented an ingenious plan. He would swap me for someone he would hold ransom. He knew that you were the lead agent in charge of my case, so he said that who better to take hostage than someone Don knew? After that, he went on to write that he had stumbled across Charlie's name in the case file as a consultant for my case. It was then he noticed the uncanny similarity in you two's last names.'

Doyle chuckled as some unseen memory or joke replayed in his mind.

'He told me he would be staying somewhere where no one would ever find him. He also said that was where he would take Charlie and... 'persuade' you to make the exchange.'

Don's blood stopped cold in his veins. _No, no... Not Charlie. Oh no, please let him be alright. Oh God, please Charlie, be okay_. Don couldn't imagine what Adam had done to Charlie. He tried to put his voice back together to speak.

'And... Adam told you all of this? Didn't he think you would rat like you're doing?'

Doyle laughed harshly. 'Adam is stupid.' He said plainly. 'He puts all his trust into me, but he should know by now that I'm a dirty cheater. He practically worships the ground I walk on. He thinks that _I'm a god. _You'd know wouldn't you, being an older brother?' Doyle's gaze penetrated Don's, his eyes seemed oddly knowing.

Of course Don took advantage of Charlie's mind sometimes. But Charlie was a person, and Don recognized that... didn't he? Sure, sometimes he may have pushed Charlie too hard or blown up at him when he was trying to help, but... So Don often guilted Charlie into helping out on a case? Don realized that Doyle seemed correct: Charlie also worshiped his big brother. Charlie would give anything up for Don, and if Don said the right words, he would even stop breathing if his big brother thought he should.

Don tried to shake the creeping guilt. 'So where is Adam?' Don cut to the chase.

Doyle shrugged. 'Your guess is as good as mine. He never wrote _where_ exactly he was headed to. Just somewhere where no one would find him, as if that helps. That's all I got, Eppes.'

Don narrowed his eyes at Doyle, trying to discern the unnerving grin. Finally, he slowly nodded and stood up. As he reached for the door handle, though, he turned back to Doyle.

'Doyle, why are you really telling me this?'

Doyle was silent and his grin slid off his face for once. He met Don's eyes with sincerity.

'I'm not a god.'

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- **A/N: Alright, first thing, sorry for the delay. I got sick and then got lazy. Sorry. And I thought I'd give poor little Charlie a break because I was so cruel to him last post... More Charliewhumping next post, which will be soon hopefully. Just a little play off of words, but the title of this chapter is from "The Phantom of the Opera" book (which is NOTHING like the musical), which I desperately love. I applaud anyone out there who got that!**


	6. Lo Hizo Este

**Title: Only One  
**

**Disclaimers: Sadly, Numb3rs is not my property nor will it ever be.  
**

**Summary: Don has car troubles and Charlie comes to pick him up: a seemingly normal situation. Until a criminal Don and his team thought they put behind bars seeks revenge by playing dirty. '**How much damage could one do?' **CWDA. **

**Warnings: Mild language and violence.**

The first sensation that greeted Charlie was nausea. It could have been from the lack of food and water, but it wasn't. It was from the overwhelming potent scent of... gasoline?

'Ah, good to see you're awake, Charles,' came Adan's genial voice. Charlie didn't need to see Adam to know it was him, he knew what his gait was like. It wasn't that it was slow, but it was calm, that's what it was. It was measured. It was soft and unobtrusive.

Charlie tried to ignore the strong smell of gasoline, but it was practically impossible. Despite his repulsion, Charlie wondered- and feared -what the gasoline was for.

_Is he going to light me on fire? Let me burn to death? Is he going to kill me, finally?_ Charlie found himself wishing for death, for anything to relieve the relentless pain assuaging him. But instead, he felt two men grab him under the armpits and drag him up. It must have been Chance and Anthony.

The pain flooded into Charlie's senses again. His whip wounds cried in agony and his bruises were tender and sore. Anthony and Chance dragged him across the room and laid him on a cold, what felt like metal, table. Charlie shivered in the freezing room. He rolled his head back and forth helplessly. Even if he wanted to fight back, he had no strength to do it.

'This will make you feel better, Dr. Eppes.' Adam's jovial voice called. Suddenly Charlie felt a needle pinprick into the crook of his arm as some unknown substance gushed through his blood veins. In a few minutes, Adam's words proved correct. Charlie _did _feel better. The pain wracking his body gradually dissolved and Charlie felt slightly renewed.

'This, though,' Adam started. It was then Charlie felt his wrists and ankles being tied to the table with leather straps. A strap was fastened around his stomach and neck. 'Will not feel good.' Adam finished. Charlie could almost see his lips curling upward and his eyes full of eagerness and vehemence.

Charlie felt another needle prick his arm. Within minutes, Charlie knew that Adam hadn't lied. He definitely didn't feel good. His stomach churned and was attacked with sharp pains. Charlie felt himself trembling as his throat became dry. His breaths were labored and deep, yet there never seemed to be enough air in his lungs. His heart felt like it was growing and the _thump-thump_ seemed to slow as it beat harder and harder in his chest. His stomach gave a mighty heave and Charlie felt bile rising in his throat. He leaned his head as far away as he could, given the neck strap, and vomited over the side of the table. He expected the horrible, burning taste of stomach bile, but instead felt the coppery taste of blood in his mouth. He felt his body involuntarily thrashing about, and realized what the restraints were for.

_What the- No._

Charlie's shaking became worse as he expelled more blood.

'Alright Charles, we're going to test your cognitive ability, your _genius_, now that we've injected gasoline in your blood.' Charlie shuddered. _No, he's not serious. No._ 'I'm doing an experiment, just seeing if any substances effect the human mind's comprehension. You will answer my questions or... well, let's just say that what I've done to you thus far will look childish compared to what I can put your... brother through. Your father?'

Adam didn't have to say anything more. Charlie would do anything, without a doubt, if his family was threatened. Adam smiled, though Charlie didn't see it.

'Good, Dr. Eppes, now let's start off with an easy one. What is the derivative of sine(x)?'

_Sine? Sine..._Charlie's thoughts became muddled, but behind all the confusion was the steady and constant presence of math. He knew this answer, he just had to think. _Think... think, sine? What is the... the derivative... of sine?_

'Time's running out, Charles... No answer?'

'Cosine(x),' Charlie croaked out, the blood coating his throat.

'Very good, professor,' Adam nodded. 'Now: next question. Another giveaway. What is Newton's third law?'

Charlie wracked his brain for the answer, but it was like trying to keep your eyes open without blinking. The longer he tried, the harder it became and the more frustrated he got. He had to blink sometime. _Newton... Newton's third law... Third... Law?_

'I... I don't know.' Charlie managed.

'Tsk, tsk, professor, how do your students ever learn?' Adam said lightly.

Adam kept up with this process until Charlie was completely spent mentally.

'Well, Charles, I'm disappointed. I don't know how that big brain of yours ever managed to find my brother.'

_Is that... what this is about? _Charlie thought, slightly delirious. _Adam wants to destroy my mind. Because... that's... my intelligence found his brother. _

'I want you to tell me how you found my brother, Dr. Eppes.' Adam said, growing impatient. 'How could you ever find him with that pathetic mind of yours?! _Tell me!'_

Charlie tried to respond, but the words fell apart in his mouth. The gasoline or whatever it was that Adam had given him had messed with his brain like Adam said. The only thing that escaped his lips was a moan.

'When I tell you to do something, Dr. Eppes,' Adam said, his voice growing angry and dark. 'I will expect you to do it... Disobedience is not something I permit. Those who break the rules deserve to be... punished. Chance, Anthony, why don't you teach the professor that disobedience is not something we tolerate.'

Charlie heard Adam exit and the door slam. His body was too weak, though, to even consider escape. The next thing he felt was the jolting slam of freezing water on his tender skin. The shock surprised him enough to alert his numbed nerves. He became more lucid and shook his mopping curls. Charlie felt something attached to his index fingers, something metal and cold that clamped down on his fingers. Then he felt the same things on his big toes.

The worst part of this situation was not knowing what was happening around him. With the blindfold on, Charlie was as blind as a bat, except he didn't have the handy tool of sonar to tell him what his enemies were doing to him. The feeling of helplessness inside him wore down on his determination to stay strong. Following that feeling was fear, intense, irrational fear of what they would do to him. Charlie found himself pulling into himself, and recoiling whenever he heard the door open, sure that some form of pain would follow his kidnappers' entrance. Everything was setting him in alert/panic mode.

'Ready?' Anthony called, his deep voice resonating against the walls. Charlie wasn't sure if he was asking him or Chance. Either way, there was no answer. Charlie was about to try removing the clamps when a loud buzzing noise interrupted him.

The next thing that Charlie was aware of was a crackling in the air and huge electrical surge charging into his body from the clamps on his hands and feet. Charlie screamed in agony. He thought that they had tried every sort of pain on him, but he was wrong. Electrocution was added to the list. The energy jumped across his soaking body, conducting the electricity further and sending more voltages through Charlie. His scream became louder.

Finally, they shut off the power. The air crackled again and Charlie felt the power leave just as suddenly as it had come. His fingers and toes were numb, not to mention his whole body was shaking like a leaf in a hurricane. His breaths came quickly and shallowly. He could still feel the painful tingle of the electricity in his body.

Then he felt the clamps on his fingers being removed.

_Thank God._ He thought, sighing slightly.

Only to find that they held the two clamps to his chest now. Whoever it was must have been wearing rubber gloves, because the air crackled again and the pain leaped to the clamps and entered Charlie's body again.

It seemed stronger than the last time, or maybe that was because the clamps were so close to his already erratic heart. Charlie screamed in pain, his chest rising up in the air as if he had been fibrillated.

Finally, the shock ended with the tell tale crackle in the air. Charlie coughed and struggled for air.

_God, please let Don find me. Please help Don find me._

_God, _Charlie pleaded while screaming as another electrocution attacked his body._Please kill me._

_------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- _

Don set down the box in the FBI conference room.

'Alright,' Don said, flopping down in a chair. 'Here's all the stuff LA courts had on Adam Doyle.'

'Courts? Why would they have information on Adam?' Megan asked, opening the box and peering inside. She absently pulled out a manila folder and began flipping through the papers. David and Colby did likewise.

Don shrugged. 'Beats me.' He too picked up a file from the box and began scanning through the information.

'Apparently, Adam is a doctor,' David said, frowning while he read a paper. 'Why would someone who's career is so established... do something like this? He had to be smart to get through med school.'

'Well, I'm having a feeling it's because his career wasn't actually so established.' Colby stated as he turned to the team. 'Says here that five years ago Adam was charged with a malpractice suit at his hospital of employment. That's only one year after he got his medical license.'

Megan raised her eyebrows. 'That's pretty fast. What was he sued over?'

Colby glanced down at the sheet again. 'Uh... It doesn't say. The patient wanted it to remain confidential.'

'What do you think, Don, is this worth pursuing?' David asked, referring to the malpractice suit.

Don sighed. 'Well, you know, I'm willing to try any angle right now. David, you wanna come with me to the patient's house and see what this is all about?' David nodded and stood up.

'We'll get started on these,' Megan said as she waved her arm to the piles of manila folders.

'The patient's name is...' Colby's eyes searched the paper. 'Alejandro Riviera.'

_------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- _

Don knocked on the door again. 'Alejandro Riviera?' He called as he turned to David. David rubbed his forehead and pushed his sunglasses up his nose. The wet and dismal weather had again turned to a characteristically hot and miserable LA day. Alejandro's house was a beautiful work of art, built like some kind of adobe house you would find in Southern America. The red roof tiles radiated the sun's heat above them yet the cool green garden beside them was fresh. David breathed out in the heat and shook his head to Don.

Don shrugged and tried the door. It was unlocked. He opened it a crack and called into the house. 'Mr. Riviera?!'

Suddenly a man appeared at the door. 'Ay, lo siento.' He paused as he realized that the two people in front of him were complete strangers.

'Si?' He said uncertainly. 'Can I help you?' He had a slight Spanish accent.

'We're FBI Mr. Riviera.' Don stated, flipping his badge open.

Alejandro's eyes widened and he shut the door a bit. 'I didn't do nothing.'

Don saw that he was closing up and they would lose Alejandro soon. 'Please sir,' Don said urgently, keeping the door open. 'We're just here to ask you about a malpractice suit you charged against an Adam Doyle.'

Alejandro stopped dead and a fearful look passed over his face before he regained control. 'O-of course.' Alejandro opened the door and invited them in.

'Thanks, I'm Agent Eppes and this is Agent Sinclair.'

Alejandro's house was cool and inviting with memoirs of Mexico pasted on the walls and decorating the house. Alejandro asked them to sit down.

'Would like something to drink?' He seemed nervous.

'No thank you,' David answered. 'We'd just like to ask you some questions.'

Alejandro sat down across from the agents uncertainly. 'I don't understand. I went to court five years ago. This matter is already settled.'

'We know that Mr. Riviera, we'd just like to ask some details about the suit.' David supplied.

'Mr. Riviera,' Don started. 'Can you tell us what you sued Adam Doyle over?'

Alejandro's eyes darkened and some indiscernible emotion flicked across his face; fear, anger, remorse?

'That- that man... He did terrible things to me.' Alejandro answered simply, setting back in his chair.

'We understand this must be hard for you Mr. Riviera. We believe that Adam Doyle has... kidnapped someone and we're only trying to gather all the information we can about this man.' David said gently.

Alejandro seemed to be contemplating this. 'He... well, I had to have to appendix removed. Adam Doyle was the attending surgeon. He removed my appendix perfect. It's... it's what he did after that, though.'

Don felt the edges of fear pricking at him. _Stay calm, Eppes._

'Mr. Riviera,' Don said softly. 'What did he do?'

Alejandro felt a burning in the corners of his eyes. He blinked back the tears and stood up. David and Don thought he was just going to leave when he answered them.

'_Lo hizo este._' He said and lifted up his t-shirt. Don took in a sharp breath as David mouth twitched. Across Alejandro Riviera's chest was a thick white scar that jumped out against his tan skin. From the ends of both collarbones and down to his waist was a crudely etched X.

_------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- _

'What'd you find, Colby?' Megan asked, entering the conference room from a lunch break. Colby sighed and threw down the folder.

'Just that Adam Doyle is a sick man. Just going through the prosecution's argument against Adam for the malpractice suit showed me that.'

'Like what?' Megan asked, unsure that she really wanted to know.

Colby didn't answer. 'I think we should go see Adam's dissertation adviser, Dr. Myers.'

'Why's that?'

'Because his dissertation title was 'How To Measure Pain Intake'.'

_------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- _

Megan and Colby arrived shortly at the University of Los Angeles. Shortly after checking the directory they found their way to Dr. Myers office.

'The Doctor Is IN' said a hand-made sign on the door. Colby half-smiled at Megan and cocked his head. He opened the door.

A balding man of about fifty sat at a mahogany desk, going through a large stack of papers. His office was tidy, every single object having a place and purpose. Above the doctor's head were framed diplomas and awards. The symmetry of the room was so different from Charlie's office. The great amount of time spent in that cramped office had always struck Colby as what a professor's office should look like. _And Charlie will be back in that office soon..._

'May I help you?' Dr. Myers asked, looking up from his papers. He set down a ballpoint pen and stood to greet the strangers.

'Actually, yes, we're FBI.' Colby said as both he and Megan flashed their credentials.

'Ah, what can I help you with?' Dr. Myers asked, interlacing his fingers in front of him.

Megan glanced at Colby before continuing. 'We wanted to ask you some questions about a student you had about six years ago.'

Dr. Myers frowned. 'Well, I can't guarantee I'll remember anyone that long ago.'

'Of course, sir. The student's name was Adam Doyle. Ring a bell?' Megan asked, but she already knew the answer. Dr. Myer's face fell when Adam's name escaped Megan's lips. He seemed to visibly pale slightly, but tried to regain his composure.

'Yes... I remember Adam.' He said slowly, his voice slightly unsteady. He said down wearily in his black cushioned chair.

'Is there a reason you remember him in particular, Dr. Myers?' Colby asked.

Dr. Myers nodded slowly. 'Adam was an... unusual fellow.'

'In what ways, Dr. Myers?' Megan asked, both she and Colby taking a seat opposite Dr. Myers.

'He- he was always interested in the death of medicine. He was always asking to work with the cadavers. Not that we don't get a few morbid doctors here and there, but there was just something off about Adam. I never thought he would be... stable... enough to become a MD.'

'Stable?' Megan repeated.

'Mentally. I was Adam's dissertation advisor, as you probably already know.' At the nods from the agents, he continued. 'Well, I was under the impression Adam would be writing his dissertation over the material we discussed every day. He was supposed to be writing over alternative medications for people with leukemia. But when he showed up at my office with his dissertation complete, I was stunned over the material.'

Megan and Colby waited anxiously for Dr. Myers to take a deep breath. His clear blue eyes met with the agents'.

'His dissertation paper was over pain, and how it affected the human body and psyche. This would not have been an unusual topic, in fact I was intrigued although I had been helping him for months with another subject. I read it through, and it was the contents that disturbed me so. Adam didn't write over how pain affected the body, he wrote over ways to experiment with pain. How pain can reduce the human mind's knowledge and how it can eventually kill the body even if the injuries are not life-threatening. He wrote over ways _how_ to do these things. He proposed several experiments to be done on humans, disturbing and wrong experiments. He wanted to test the brain's cognitive abilities under extreme pain, to measure the psychological effects. It was frightening, and before I went to the Dean, I spoke to Adam about the paper. After telling him how ethically and morally wrong it was, he agreed to write over our initial topic. A month later I was given a dissertation paper over leukemia treatments. It was perfect, nearly flawless. Of course he earned his medical degree, but I could never really picture him in a doctor's role. I never knew what he would do... if he would ever think about the pain experiments again. But it didn't matter for Adam, he was brilliant, top of his class, and it seemed as if he never even tried.'

'The university keeps all of its grad students' dissertation papers, so I may be able to find it for you. If I can, I'll contact you.'

Megan and Colby sat in shock, trying to comprehend Dr. Myers' words. _Pain. Experiments. Cognitive. Psychological. _

'Why? Is Adam in trouble?' Dr. Myers finally asked wearily.

'Yes, Dr. Myers.' Megan said listlessly. 'I think he is.'

_------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- _

Chance and Anthony sent the last shock through Charlie as his scream stopped. Charlie felt the restraints being released but he couldn't even manage to wiggle his fingers his body was in such shock, literally. Charlie's body trembled violently as the two men lifted Charlie up to a sitting position and tied the rope back around his wrists. They then hauled Charlie up to his feet.

Charlie couldn't even stand, though. His body flopped over like a fish out of water. Chance and Anthony were the only things keeping him upright as they guided him a few steps.

'Wow, he's really messed up.' came Chance's voice. Noises seemed disturbed in Charlie's ears. There was a loud ringing buzz interrupting everything else. His head throbbed like it had been hit by a hammer.

The two of them picked Charlie up gingerly and laid his tied hands over the hook, straining Charlie's already bloody mess of a body. Charlie groaned at the shift and tossed his head to the side.

They left, but Charlie heard talking outside the door, but didn't have the strength to understand what was being said. Then someone entered again and walked to Charlie.

Charlie cringed back, afraid of being put in pain again. 'Boss says for you to drink this.' Anthony's deep voice stated. Something was put to Charlie's lips, but he recoiled, fearing it was something like the gasoline before.

'It's just water,' Anthony said. Charlie relaxed when he heard that, and greedily drank the cool water. He didn't realize how thirsty he as until then. He couldn't get enough water quick enough. A rational part of mind told him to slow down or he'd just throw it up.

After he had downed as much as he could, Charlie heard the door shut as Anthony exited again. Charlie coughed and shivered in the cold air. He tried to think his way out of the situation, but there didn't seem to be any solution to his predicament. There was no way out of the room while the door was locked. And even if did manage to escape, then Adam and his cronies would probably kill him. It wasn't as if he could see anything with the blindfold on anyway.

Charlie sighed slowly, accepting his defeat, then immediately regretted it as his chest was set on fire. He knew that Adam must have broken his ribs before, and every move sent waves of pain radiating through his body.

He knew there was only a slight, remote chance that Don would figure out who was holding him. And an even slimmer chance that he would figure out where Charlie was, considering Charlie himself didn't know that.

_------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- _

**A/N- Oh, I'm so heartless... Again, I apologize for the delay. I'm having some trouble deciding where I want this to go because I just write as it comes, and this week... not much has been coming. Sorry. I meant to bring Edgerton in on this chapter, but I thought that would just be too many different characters for one chapter. So, I promise next chapter that we'll get to see some more of Larry, Amita, Alan, and Edgerton. And of course, some Charlie!**

**What do you think? Reviews are appreciated, I seriously need all the help humanly possible. sigh **

**By the way, translations:**

_Lo hizo este. _**means He did this.**

_Ay, lo siento_ **means Oh, I'm sorry. **


	7. Ahab Returns for Revenge

**Title: Only One  
**

**Disclaimers: Sadly, Numb3rs is not my property nor will it ever be.  
**

**Summary: Don has car troubles and Charlie comes to pick him up: a seemingly normal situation. Until a criminal Don and his team thought they put behind bars seeks revenge by playing dirty. '**How much damage could one do?' **CWDA. **

**Warnings: Mild language and violence.**

**   
**

Ian Edgerton took one more walk around the smashed up Prius. To an amateur's eye, the car had merely been a victim of a wreck. To an expert's, to Ian's, eyes, it was obvious that something far more sinister had taken place. After practically searching every inch of the car, Ian had finally found the jackpot of jackpots lying on the floor of the backseat.

A hair.

And a blond one to boot.

Unless Charlie had happened to drive a blond around lately, Ian was sure the owner was someone who had kidnapped Charlie. Right now the hair was being processed by forensics, but it could be a while before any results made their way back to him.

Ian sighed and shook his head dejectedly. He felt useless here, there wasn't much his expertise or skills could do to help get Charlie back any faster. He had to do what he could though. And right now, maybe that meant looking around in a car.

Ian exited the room. After finding Charlie's car, Don ordered it to be towed to an FBI garage. What Ian didn't understand was how Don's boss, Merrick, was allowing him to do any of this. Better not to delve into others' business though, so he never really asked Don. Ian made his way to the main FBI building and entered an elevator.

He waited patiently as the elevator seemed to take eons to reach Don's floor. Finally, the doors slid open and Ian entered the bullpen.

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Alan stood in the kitchen, preparing a feast worthy of kings. He juggled the pan containing steamed potatoes and the stew brewing on the stove top. He always cooked when he was agitated.

Even Margaret had said that it was a nervous habit of his. And right now, this situation definitely merited nervousness, panicking, even a mental meltdown.

_Charlie is missing_. It seemed so strange to even think it. Alan had always thought that it would be Don, the FBI agent, the reckless one, to be in a situation like this. He had always pictured Don being kidnapped or shot in the line of duty, or something even worse. But Charlie? Sweet, poor little Charlie? His youngest who was only a math professor who lived to teach, learned for math. Charlie who couldn't function without the constant stream of numbers running through his head, Charlie who had done calculus at age eight. Charlie...

It wasn't fair. Alan slammed a spoon into a pan and began stirring boiling carrots.

_It's not fair._ Charlie had done nothing wrong. He hadn't asked for this.

And neither had Alan. As the steam rose up into his face, Alan tried to melt the troubles and fear away, but a terrible feeling kept creeping its way into his heart.

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Charlie had by now began to expect what every day in his Hell would bring him. Twice a day his captors led him to another room blindfolded. Once there, they untied him and took the fabric off of his eyes and let him do his business. Then it was back to his 'cell' where he would live in perpetual darkness and fear. They would do something new to him every time he surfaced to consciousness. Beatings, whippings, electrocutions, strange drugs. There was no end to the pain.

Charlie flexed his arms weakly where they were hanging above his head. His shoulders were on fire with the constant strain from being forced into the painful position all the time. He could tell that the whip wounds were healing; there were scabs covering his pale body now. His broken ribs, though, were another story. Every move jostled the bones and caused an unbearable to surge through Charlie's chest. There was just no end to the pain barraging his weak body. The blindfold hadn't been removed since he had first glimpsed Adam's terrifyingly cheerful face. He had lived in the constant darkness since then. Time had lost all its meaning to him; something that Larry had often stressed, that time was relative. Of course, Charlie being the mathematician, thought the other way, that time was set. He didn't realize how relative time was until he had no way to gauge it. Everything stretched out into obscenely long moments. He was always either awake in pain or sleeping and having garish nightmares of pain. Either way, living was only a torment that Adam provided.

How Charlie wished that his dear brother would just find him.

_Don, please. Wherever you are, please, please help me._ Charlie thought desperately, knowing wishful thinking would get him no further and not relieve the relentless pain. Wishing would not stop Adam from continuing with his sick game, it would not stop Charlie's body from being assaulted with new tortures every time he regained consciousness. Nothing could help him now, not even his big brother who had sworn to always look after him. There was nothing Charlie could do. For once his genius failed him. He could find no way out of the hole Adam had dug him. There was no escape from the pain, from Adam, from Chance and Anthony, from the torture.

Charlie's stomach grumbled, but that was by far the least of his concerns at the moment. How could he think about something as trivial as hunger when his whole body was being wracked with spasms of lashing pain? Charlie shivered in the cold, pungent air. He could smell just fine, and he smelled the distinct coppery scent of blood.

Again, Charlie shivered, but this time it was not form the cold.

That smell of blood.

It was _his_ blood.

God, it was his blood. He was going to die here. Just then it hit Charlie like a ton of bricks. _I'm going to die here_, he thought dejectedly. He really was. It seemed like the life source of his hope had been slowly dwindling over the past... days, hours, minutes he had been kidnapped. He had stayed strong in the beginning, believing he had it in him to survive, to fight against the assaults. He stayed strong, for his survival, for Don. He had acted as Don would have. He had not admitted defeat.

The problem, though, was that Charlie was the farthest thing from the brother.

He was not strong. He could not hold up against the torture. He could not stay strong. It wasn't in his nature to be the reliable, sturdy-as-a-rock type. That was Don. Charlie was the mathematician, the crazy savant who only knew numbers, not life or death situations.

What did Adam even want? He had said he wanted Charlie to tell Don to make the trade. But Charlie could not do that. He knew that wherever Don was, if he knew about Charlie's situation, he would be disappointed in the younger brother. He would know that Charlie was weak, that he could not withstand the simple hurts of a delusional psychopath willing to do anything for his brother... Don would know that Charlie was not reliable, that he was a disgusting human who was too weak for Don to even be ashamed of him. He was lower than dirt, Charlie knew. So, the least he could do was try and prove to Don that he wasn't as terribly weak as it appeared. He would not, _would not_ let that monster Richard Doyle out on the streets to rape and murder some innocent girl again. It was all he could do, all he could prove to Don that Charlie was indeed not as worthless as he seemed. He had to stay strong, even if he couldn't in the sense of the physical torture.

Interrupting his thoughts, the door swung open, squeaking on its hinges. Charlie cringed in fear. He had by now figured out the method of these cruel kidnappers. It was all pain, pain, pain. He didn't mean to pull back in fear, shrink into himself, trying to hide from them, it was a natural instinct.

Charlie heard a soft laugh and knew at that instant that Adam had entered. After hearing two more pairs of footsteps, Charlie knew that Adam was accompanied by Chance and Anthony. There was no way to prepare himself for the pain. Charlie could only take it as it came... Not that he really could take it anyway, but he had to try, try to prove that he was strong.

'Good morning, Dr. Eppes.' Adam called in his genial, disturbing voice. 'Glad to see that you're awake.'

Charlie heard approaching footsteps and pulled away as much as he could.

'Tsk, tsk, professor,' Charlie could hear the smile on Adam's face, he could see the smile in his mind. 'You seem a little too comfortable. Perhaps we should... try another experiment? Yes, that sounds like a good idea.'

_Oh God._

Charlie's mind bounced back and forth between every terrible possibility of this 'experiment'. Before he could dwell any longer, though, Chance or Anthony, Charlie thought it was Chance by the lighter grip, lifted him down from the cruel hook.

_Please, please, no._ Charlie pleaded with no one in particular. He had never really been into any religion at all, but found himself praying.

_God, please help me to stay strong. Please keep me strong, Lord. Keep me strong for Donnie. Please, Lord, let him Don find me, let him save me. Please Lord, deal with me as you see fit. Just please help me to stay strong through whatever they do..._

Once again, Charlie felt the cool metallic table beneath him. He tried to fight back with what little strength he had, but his holder controlled him with little effort. Again he was strapped to the table like an animal. Something poked his right arm and Charlie felt a welcoming warmth spread almost immediately through his body. The pain assuaging his body seemed to cease. He felt at peace as he could finally focus on something other than the mind-numbing pain.

'Alright, Charles, time to test your brain capabilities again. This won't hurt.' Adam said lightly as Charlie could only imagine what was going on around him. He felt helpless as a needle was pricked into the crook of his left arm. He groaned as something was injected into his bloodstream. Charlie feared what had been put into his body. He had no idea what it was or what the effects would take on him. Charlie waited in agonizing terror for the drug to take effect.

'It should start kicking in around now.' Adam said matter-of-factly. Right on cue, Charlie felt his world go topsy-turvy.

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Larry sat down wearily in his chair. He had just finished teaching Charlie's freshman 101 class. Unfortunately, that was about all he was capable of teaching. The rest went to Amita and the substitute professor. Larry slowly ran his hands down his face.

There was no way this could really be happening. _Charles? Of all the people, why Charles? _He was the most tenured, the most deserving professor on campus and most of all he was the best friend of Larry. Amita was close to him, but Larry had known Charlie since that fateful day at Princeton. Such memories they shared.

_And there will be more, Lawrence._ Larry chided. Charlie would get out of this fine.

Whatever 'this' was. Megan was of no help in the subject; she would not say anything to Larry about what they had turned up. Either that was because they hadn't turned up _anything_, or... what they had discovered was too disturbing. Larry fervently hoped it was the former and not the latter. He wouldn't be able to bear it if something happened to his beloved friend. There was so much past between the physics professor and the applied mathematics professor. And there would be so much more in their future if Larry had anything to say about it.

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Don looked up from where he heard the elevator ding. Ian Edgerton walked hesitantly over to the area where Don's FBI team resided. Don didn't like the look on Ian's face.

'What is it? Did you turn something up?' Don asked, and the rest of his team looked up expectantly, save for Megan, who was out.

'I found a hair.' Ian said simply.

Don prodded. 'Ya, alright, it wasn't Charlie's I'm assuming.'

'No, it wasn't. I sent it to forensics to check out, see if they have anything in their database. The results aren't back yet, they probably won't be for a little bit.' Ian answered.

Don leaned back in his chair and sighed. He was getting no headway on this case. Sure, Doyle had spilled the beans on his psychopath brother, but that didn't help them figure out where Charlie could be. Not to mention the information on Adam Doyle was just a bit disconcerting.

And by a bit, Don meant a hell of a lot.

The guy was a class-A screwup, the classic image of psychopath. After hearing what Colby and Megan had discovered about his dissertation, Don had rushed to the restroom and turned up what little food he had ingested in the past few days.

It had been more than a few days by now. Four days and two hours since Don had last heard anything from his brother personally. He was starting to get sick with worry. At first, Don had convinced himself that Charlie was missing and that was it. His brother had just lost track of time like always, or forgot to tell Alan that he was leaving for a consultation. But after finding the car, speaking to Doyle, and discovering the disturbing past of Adam, there was no doubt in his mind that something far more sinister had happened to his brother.

What he didn't know was where Charlie could possibly be. He only knew that his little brother was in some deep shit, and Don was only one who could save him from... the worst.

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Being sick was not something new to Charlie. Everyone got sick at random points in their life. Especially during the flu season when all his students were passing around germs like notes during Charlie's freshman 101 class. He had been sick before, he had thrown up what seemed like his whole insides before, felt like he was going to die, been feverish, he had had the cold, the flu, and something that didn't really have name once. He had had hangovers before. He had felt the pounding relentless throbbing in his head, the naseau and blinding lights, he had felt like shit before.

But he had never felt like he did now.

Every fiber in Charlie's being screamed that something was wrong, desperately, desperately wrong. Something had been screwed up inside him, something had pushed the wrong button. Oh God something had wrenched his stomach straight through his mouth.

Charlie was helpless as wave after dizzying wave disoriented him to the maximum. His body felt weird, there was no other way to describe it. So incredibly weird. And wrong. He felt like his body was floating over an endless ocean. No, maybe he was floating _on _ the ocean. He couldn't really tell. Either way, it was like an out-of-body experience, except he was still _in _his body. He had trouble putting thoughts together. He couldn't remember, why, why he felt like he did. There was a reason. What was he really doing floating in the ocean anyway? Why couldn't he see? There had to be some... answers? Was that the word? Slowly he felt some pressure released from his body.

'Charles,' he heard a wavery voice say. Charles? Oh, that was his name wasn't it? It was, right? 'I've released the restraints, can you stand up for me?'

'Sssure,' Charlie slurred, not really sure who he was responding to. He tried to sit up like the voice had told him, but the signals in his minds weren't communicating to his muscles. _Move._ He commanded himself, but all the commands were mixed up and the green light in his mind must have appeared red to his muscles. With a suprreme will, he managed to lift himself up and sit wobbily on the ocean.

What was he doing, again?

Oh, yeah, standing up.

He tried to swing his legs over the side of the ocean, but somehow managed to stumble. Why wouldn't his body parts move like he told them? His leg twitched and stumbled on its way. Once his legs were waiting, he told himself to stand up on the ocean. _Wait, _Charlie thought, some of his sense returning. _I'm not on the ocean. Adam, he asked me to stand up. I have to stand up_, he though irrationally. He let his legs fall to the floor, but found that apparently the rest of his body wasn't ready for that yet. His legs refused to hold his body weight up and he flopped uselessly to the floor. His body was not obeying his brain's commands. He felt his whole body shaking with harrowing tremors. His head throbbed painfully as his stomach flipped itself over. He felt sick as a dog, and he could barely put thoughts in his head with the insane drumming of pain going on there. Before he knew what was going on, he felt his stomach squeeze up into his throat and it was there he proceeded to spew it out. He felt it coming out, light as a liquid.

_I can't live without my stomach! Oh God, no! _Charlie though, panicked. He fumbled with his hands and found the edge of the table. He held onto it with a death grip and tried to lift himself up. He could barely control his actions as he stumbled again to the floor in a heap. He felt like the ocean, or the floor, or whatever beneath him was rolling around and around and he couldn't find a spot to balance his unsturdy body on.

'Can you tell me,' came Adam's amused voice. 'What your name is?'

Charlie only assumed that the man was speaking to him. _That man is Adam_, Charlie tried to tell himself, but his sluggish brain did not comprehend the thought.

'I... I don't know,' Charlie said slowly, as if learning to speak for the first time. It felt like his tongue had gotten tangled up in his throat.

'Interesting...' Adam said, distracted. 'Can you tell me how you feel?'

Charlie groaned as a wave of mind-staggering dizziness washed over him. 'Siiick...' Charlie spat out. He moaned again as he fought to bring his slow mind to reality.

'Do you know who I am?' Adam questioned.

Charlie couldn't focus. What did that man just ask again?

'Ripley's... Believe It Or... Not.' Was all Charlie said, speaking like a drunk. 'Ahab.'

'That's very interesting, Dr. Eppes.' Adam noted, while unseen to Charlie he was jotting away on a clipboard. 'Well, I think I've seen enough here. Chance, Anthony, Charles' wounds seem to be healing quite nicely. Do something to fix that.'

Charlie heard a lound slam and felt two rough pairs of hands grasp him on either side.

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**A/N: Okay, okay, I know I deserve it. I'm sorry it's been like 2 weeks since the last post. Give me a chance to explain. I got sick, had some really bad adverse reactions to a new prescription, and now I have finals. Okay, maybe they're not excuses, but they're certainly reasons... or is the other way around?**

**Anyway, I apologize for the delay, I plan on posting more regularly again. What do you think? Oh, poor, poor Charlie, I wish it wasn't, but this is only the beginning. Please leave comments, it helps me get the deadlines done and helps me know what I need to do or not do. Thanks again for reading and keeping up even though I am a supreme slacker. **


	8. Not Even By A Longshot

**Title: Only One  
**

**Disclaimers: Sadly, Numb3rs is not my property nor will it ever be.  
**

**Summary: Don has car troubles and Charlie comes to pick him up: a seemingly normal situation. Until a criminal Don and his team thought they put behind bars seeks revenge by playing dirty. '**How much damage could one do?' **CWDA. **

**Warnings: Mild language and violence.**

**This chapter is very graphic and contains sexual content. I wouldn't say that it's enough for me to raise the rating on the whole story, but be warned...****  
**

Charlie was so out of it he didn't really feel the jarring slam into the wall. In fact, he really didn't feel much at the moment. At least that was an improvement from the horrible waves of pain that had consumed what seemed only moments before. His whole body was a vague blank palette of feeling.

Before he was conscious of what was going on, Charlie felt something tiny slide into his arm. He tried to look down at it, but again found the perpetual darkness of the blindfold. But he didn't need to see to know that he had just been stuck with a needle. He only prayed that it wasn't something as volatile as the last shot he had been given.

_Please..._ He didn't think he could take any more. No more pain. There came a point where his limit was stretched and now it had finally broken. He did have just reasons to feel like giving up though; he did get beaten severely, whipped, and drugged with unknown substances numerous times. If that didn't merit a feeling of hopelessness, Charlie didn't know what did.

Soon he found, to his relief, that the drug in his system must have been a painkiller or something of the likes for he regained feeling in his body and his senses came back into focus with a painful clarity. His head throbbed and other than the queasiness of his stomach, he thought me might live.

What he didn't understand, though, was why Adam and his cronies always gave him pain meds before or after a dose of the painful shots. Charlie felt a sickness spread through him, not from the strange drug, but from the thought that maybe Adam wanted him lucid enough to feel pain. _What kind of sick monster is this guy?_

Charlie knew that Adam had left him alone with Chance and Anthony. Although Charlie was afraid of what they would do to him, he tried to mask that fear from them. Good thing he was blindfolded. _Wow._ Charlie never thought he'd find the day when he's be glad to be practically blind. His usual expressive and give-away eyes were locked away forever behind the mask of a blindfold.

Charlie felt the cruel hands of one of his captors on his chest, pinning him against the wall.

_Please_, Charlie wanted to say, but he didn't want to stoop that low; he didn't want to beg. If he was going to die here, and he was sure he would, then he would not give his captors the satisfaction of knowing he was weak. But that was just it, he _was_ weak. Charlie was torn between staying strong or just giving in. He had nothing to lose after all, except for his life, but he wasn't really concerned about that anymore. He just didn't want the pain, death he would welcome at this point, but not any more pain. Nothing could really get worse than the situation he was in.

'Chance...' Anthony's deep voice rumbled. He spoke warningly.

Charlie wondered what was going on around him.

Suddenly Charlie felt Chance's hands spin him around so his face was shoved into the concrete wall painfully. The wall stifled a groan as Charlie's broken body refused the movement. Without warning, Charlie felt hands move down his back over the whip wounds and down to his belt line.

Charlie immediately stiffened and suddenly felt his heart rate increase. An irrational fear spread through his body like the blood coursing in his veins. Hie heart seemed to rise up into his throat as he could feel the erratic beating throughout his body.

'What's wrong, professor?' came Chance's sneering voice. 'Uncomfortable?'

Chance's hands began to tug at Charlie's pants. Charlie pulled away and tried to get out of Chance's grip. He was promptly slammed onto the floor and the wind was knocked out of him. Charlie gasped like a fish out of water for a moment, trying to force air into his weary lungs. For a moment, he forgot his fear.

Then it came back tenfold as Charlie felt Chance stand over him before kneeling down, essentially straddling him. Charlie instantly recoiled and fought back, his increasing fear taking control.

The fear morphed into full-blown panic as Chance started with Charlie's button and zipper.

_Oh God, _Charlie thought, _no. No, please, no. Oh God! This cannot be happening, no, no!_

Charlie had never in his whole life ever felt such intense fear as what was rushing through his veins now. He knew with full certainty what Chance intended to do to him. Charlie knew that in his current state, there wasn't much fighting back he could do. This only fueled his fear as breathing became more difficult. With every breath, he realized more and more the magnanimity of his situation. Chance was going to rape him.

'No, please. Please, stop.'

Charlie wasn't sure if had said it aloud or thought it. Chance succeeded in removing Charlie's pants.

_Please. _Charlie tried to think his way out of the situation. His only possible means of escape was to fight back. He wasn't sure how far that was going to get him what with his physical state, but he had to try, he would not allow this to happen.

Charlie lashed out at Chance with his currently bound hands. He struck upwards, hoping to catch Chance in the face and was right on the money. Charlie felt his right hand collide with Chance's nose and cheek and heard the painful yell. He immediately tried to scramble away, but Chance was much quicker than he had anticipated. Charlie felt a hand grab him by his long curly hair and yank him back. Alan had always asked him to get it trimmed. If only he had listened to his family more.

Charlie's body slammed back onto the cold floor and his head collided painfully with a sickening _thump! _If Charlie could see, he was pretty sure there would be stars at this point. Chance still had a fistful of Charlie's hair as he jerked the mathematician's head up and then slammed it with an unparalleled force back on the metal floor. Charlie felt an obscene pain explode in his skull as all sounds seemed to cease. A loud and ringing buzzing noise overwhelmed his senses as he dazedly felt his head being jerked up and down in a constant motion, hitting the floor every time. With every strike, Charlie felt his consciousness ebbing along with his strength.

Charlie had a hard time focusing on anything after that. Well, everything except the horrific act that was about to committed on him. He was aware of the frigid air pressing in on him, his shivering body shaking from cold and insane fear. He was aware of the stinging in his chest, his broken ribs, his throbbing head. He was aware of Chance straddling on top of him and removing his last article of clothing. He was aware of the intense, mind-numbing fear. He was aware of his cry of pain and fear, of his writhing.

He was aware that he had been wrong; things _could_ get very, very much worse.

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Don slumped down into the sofa of Charlie's house. He ran a hand through his hair absently as Alan entered the front room.

'Donnie?' He asked uncertainly.

Don looked up at his father with two weary, grief-stricken eyes. Two eyes that said it all; _We haven't found Charlie yet, Dad. We're no closer than we were four days ago. I don't know what to do, Dad._

Alan sat down slowly beside his eldest. He tried to choose his words carefully. 'Don, why don't you go upstairs to your old bedroom and get some sleep. It's getting late.'

Don sighed. 'Frankly, I don't know if I can even do that anymore.'

Alan gave his son the once-over again. Don did look a little worse for wear, but so did Alan. Everyone did, anyone would when their son or brother went missing. Not to mention... not so much missing as... kidnapped.

Don laced his fingers behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. There were dark circles under his eyes and his face looked more sunken than normal. His five o'clock shadow had progressed to something more like a three day-old shadow. His closed were wrinkled and his hair was disheveled.

'On second thought,' Alan started. 'Why don't you go upstairs and take a nice relaxing shower? I'll reheat some of the lasagna I made yesterday. It'll be hot by the time you get down here.'

Don finally turned to face his father. Again, the eyes bore down on Alan with a sadness almost completely unseen in the FBI agent.

Don nodded slowly. 'Yeah, that sounds good...' Don stood up and headed to the stairs. 'Thanks, Dad.' He added softly.

Alan simply smiled and headed to the kitchen to heat the lasagna.

Don plodded up the stairs wearily and made his way to the bathroom. As he turned the shower head on, he tried to figure out where he had gone wrong. There must have been a point somewhere where Don could have prevented this whole situation from occurring. As he stepped into the shower, Don turned his thoughts elsewhere. It was no time to think about the past, now was the time for the present, if not the future.

He had to find Charlie. And soon. The sooner, the better. Who knows what his little brother was going through now? Don knew that he and Charlie hadn't always gotten on together on the best of terms, but he thought it had been changing over the past couple years as Charlie began working as a consultant for Don. Even after Charlie had been threatened before, what with the sniper and the Russian mafia, the two brothers had bonded more than they ever had in their childhood.

Don repeated his thoughts again. _Charlie had been threatened before_. Letting Charlie work with him had caused the professor to become a target by inadvertent means. It didn't matter if Don hadn't meant for it to happen, but he knew that the only person to blame for getting Charlie into this situation was himself. If Charlie hadn't ever worked for the FBI, then Adam never would have seen his name and made the connection to Don.

Don suddenly hit the shower wall in fury. It was all his fault! Dammit He was so helpless, so useless in finding Charlie. There had to be a way, a way to find his little brother. It had always been Don's job to protect Charlie, and this time was no different. In fact, this time made it so much clearer that Charlie needed him. Charlie needed anyone's help. Don didn't want to think about what was being done to his brother. After seeing what happened to Alejandro, and learning about the dissertation paper, Don was afraid of what Charlie was being subjected to. Would Adam conduct 'experiments' on Charlie, torture him, cut him, hurt him? He couldn't bear it if Charlie was hurt, he couldn't live with himself if something serious happened to Charlie. And knowing the mathematician, Don was certain that the emotional injuries would far outlast any physical ones. Charlie's natural sensitivity and loose grip of coping figured with his firm hold of math only equaled disaster in a traumatic experience.

Don let the hot, scalding water wash over, trying to rid himself of the filth, the horrible stench of guilt. He tried to wash away the fear, the horror, the ominous cloud that followed him around everywhere now.

It didn't really matter, Don knew there was only thing he could even think about doing right now, and that was going to any means humanly possible to save Charlie.

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Charlie's body slowly recognized consciousness. As he felt the edges of awareness seep into his brain, Charlie opened his eyes.

Darkness.

Utter and all-encompassing darkness that penetrated every speck of his sight.

Why was it so dark, he wondered, where was he? Then, like the awareness surging back into his body, he realized with sickening clarity where he was.

Charlie tried to stretch his aching muscles, but found he had been strung up on the hook once more. His shoulders burned with a throbbing fire from the strenuous position they had been forced into for the majority of his captivity. Charlie flexed his sore leg muscles and then another bit of memory came back to him.

Charlie stiffened and stopped moving at once as he remembered what Chance had done to him. He started shaking, the tremors tearing through his body as he realized how dirty he was, how disgusting and worthless he was now that his body had been defiled. He felt tears well up in his hidden eyes, but they did not fall; they were only soaked up by the harsh blindfold.

Charlie then noticed that he had been given a pair of pants, denim by the feel. At least he was covered up, not having to be any more ashamed of his filth. His chest, though, was bare and his whip wounds stung fiercely in the cold air, but he could tell they were healing.

Charlie stood awkwardly on his weary legs as he tried to focus on something to get him through whatever Adam planned to do to him.

Don.

What _would_ Don do in a situation like this? _Don would be strong. Don wouldn't have even let this happen, he would be smarter. _

Interrupting his thoughts, the door swung open with its familiar creak as Charlie naturally shied away from his captors. He heard Adam chuckle in his eerie, light voice.

'Ah, professor Eppes, I see you're awake. How delightful. Now, I want you to smile, because I'm taking a picture for Donnie.'

Charlie tensed at the name of his brother. Surely Adam wouldn't think of doing anything to Don... Before Charlie could let the horrific images play through his mind, there was a click and the sound of a camera snapping a picture.

'Very good,' Adam said good-naturedly. 'Now, Charles, I think it's about time for Chance and Anthony to take care of this wounds, isn't it?'

Charlie started to protest, but Chance or Anthony spun him around promptly. At the feel of his captor, Charlie recoiled in fear.

Chance leaned into Charlie's ear close enough that the mathematician could feel hot breath on his skin. 'You had fun, didn't you, math geek? The fun's only started, don't be disappointed.'

Charlie nearly choked on his own breath as he heard the words of Chance. He shuddered and tried to pull out of Chance's grip, but he had a firm hold on Charlie.

'Go for it, Anthony.' came Chance's young voice. Charlie tried to prepare himself, but there was nothing to help him cope with the horrible pain of the whip.

Anthony let the whip sail through the air, slicing through Charlie's skin with ease. A horrific scream filled the air as Anthony lazily flicked the whip, ripping Charlie's skin from his bones.

Charlie again felt the blindfold soaking up his free tears. 'Please,' he pleaded, though he knew that pleas would mean nothing to these men. 'Please.'

'Aw, did you hear that, Chance? The professor wants me to stop.' Anthony's deep voice bellowed out with amusement. Chance answered with a cold snicker.

For an answer, Charlie got another slice with the whip on his back.

'Well, Charles, I'll leave you here. I have a delivery to make. Have fun.' Adam called happily as the ominous creak of the door signaled his exit.

Charlie swallowed in fear as he felt the whip come down with a striking rage.

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Don woke with a start. He looked around groggily. The clock read 7:32 as he tried to pinpoint what had awakened him. It could've been one of the nightmares that plagued him night and day, but it was his phone ringing. Don reached over clumsily to the nightstand and fumbled for his cell phone. He flipped it open and brought it to his face.

'Eppes.' He answered drowsily.

'Don, it's Megan.' Her voice didn't sound like there was any good news.

Don sat up bolt-straight in bed. 'What is it?' He asked, fearing for any bad news, yet anxious to hear if there was anything new.

'I think you need to come to the office.' She said slowly.

Don didn't want to imagine what she had to tell him. 'I'll be there in twenty.'

Don nervously exited the elevator and strode to his desk. He took off his coat and turned around to search for Megan. She was sitting with the team in the conference room. Don took a deep breath and plunged through the glass door and faced his team.

'What's up?' He tried to ask casually, but knew from the looks on his team that he had not succeeded.

'I thought...' Megan grimaced. 'You might want to see this for yourself.' She handed Don a manila envelope that was addressed to _FBI Agent Don Eppes_.

'We received it this morning. There's no return address, but we're already sending the prints through our database. Mail crew already checked it and said you were clear to open it...' She trailed off as Don broke the seal of the envelope and reached in.

When he pulled his hand out, there was a handwritten note in it. The writing was neat, meticulously so, and written with a professional likeness. With a shaking hand, he held it up and read it aloud to Megan, David, and Colby.

_'Dear Agent Eppes,_

_As you've surely discovered by now, your brother is not merely missing. _

_If you wish for me to return him- alive -then you had best follow my directions. I demand that you return _my _brother, Richard Doyle, to me, free of all charges. If you do not release him from prison within 24 hours- and I _will_ know -then, your Charles will be returned to you piece by piece. When you release Richard, I will reveal the location of Dr. Eppes. Until then, I hope that the photo enclosed will further convince you that your only choice is to release Richard. _

_-Adam Doyle'_

Don's knees gave out as he wobbily sank into the nearest chair. The note slipped from his numb fingers.

Megan's hand was clamped over her mouth in horror. David reached for the note and laid it on the table slowly, trying to keep his hands steady. Colby's face was spewing with cold rage, sick that anyone would do this to the Whiz Kid.

'Don...' Megan started, her voice devoid of emotion. 'The photo...'

Don nodded slowly and reached back in the envelope, pulling out a photo. The white, glossy side faced him. As Don prepared to flip over the picture, he tried to ready himself for what would greet his eyes. There was nothing that could prepare him for that pain, though.

_Not Charlie. How could this happen to Charlie?_ Don breathed out in fear as he flipped the photo over. He gasped as he took in the sight of his brother. Charlie looked like his was hanging from... a hook? _Oh god._ His hands were tied above his head, hanging from a menacing hook. But that was not the troubling part of picture; it was Charlie's condition. Charlie was bleeding from horrible slashes all across his chest, stomach, and arms. They looked like... _Oh God, please no_... something a whip could inflict. Don tried to quell the shaking in his body as he saw the blindfold covering his little brother's eyes. Charlie's ribs stuck out awkwardly in some places, only more evidence that Charlie must have beaten severely and sustained some broken ribs.

He couldn't bare to look at the image any longer. He slapped it down on the table and nearly ran out the door and to the bathroom. He gazed into his image in the mirror, leaning onto the sink.

_No._

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_

'Dad.'

Alan wheeled around to face Don, who must have just entered the house.

'Don,' Alan said, frowning slightly. 'What are you doing here? It's three in the afternoon.'

Don only walked to the table in the kitchen, where Alan stood chopping vegetables. Alan noticed with uneasiness how pale his oldest was. Something must have happened. _Please, please let Charlie be okay. _

'Don, what's wrong? What happened?' Alan dropped the knife on the cutting board and sat next to Don at the table. Don stared ahead into the wall, trying to put words into his mouth. He didn't want to show Alan the photo, nor did he want to share what had been on the photo. But he knew that if he were Alan, he would want to know everything about Charlie's situation; bad or good.

'Dad, I'm scared.' Don said instead, surprising even himself. His next sentence was surprising as well. 'I don't know what to do.'

Red flags went up in Alan's mind as he tried not to jump to all sorts of terrible conclusions. 'Don,' he said firmly, yet gently. 'What's happened? Please tell me, son.'

Don turned to eyes that were pain-filled to his father. His eyes threatened to overflow with unshed tears.

'Dad,' Don said as the tears finally escaped. 'Charlie's in trouble.'

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**A/N- Again, I apologize for the lateness! It's the holidays, gimme a break. I just finished my finals and I'm desperately trying to finish my wrapping!!! Anyway, I just want to say that I didn't have anything in this chapter planned out; it just sort of... happened. I'm sorry if you didn't like it, please leave a comment why you didn't. If you did like it, reviews are always appreciated. Thank you so much for sticking with this story even though I am very late on my deadlines and not a very consistent writer. I wish you all a happy Christmas/ Kwanzaa/ Hanukkah (even though it's over) and a happy new year!!! **


	9. See No Evil

**Title: Only One  
**

**Disclaimers: Sadly, Numb3rs is not my property nor will it ever be.  
**

**Summary: Don has car troubles and Charlie comes to pick him up: a seemingly normal situation. Until a criminal Don and his team thought they put behind bars seeks revenge by playing dirty. '**How much damage could one do?' **CWDA. **

**Warnings: Mild language and violence.**

There seemed to be no end to the ever-lasting pain. There was no relief as the whip crashed down on his body time after time after time. It rained down on his back, his chest, his arms, his legs. He didn't know that his body could even hold as much blood as was seeping onto the floor. He didn't know that the human body was capable of handling this much pain. He didn't know this was happening to him, a mild-mannered mathematician.

Chance or Anthony or whoever held the whip finally ceased the oncoming pain to Charlie. The only noises in the room were that of Charlie's captors' heavy panting and Charlie's harsh, ragged breath. A moan escaped Charlie's lips as pain coursed freshly throughout his body. He didn't know how much longer he would last. He knew that the time was coming, that he would leave this world forever soon. It didn't really bother him much; anything was better than the horrible pain he had to endure every time he was conscious. He was only sorry he could not say goodbye to his friends and family.

Within moments, Charlie heard the door slam as Chance and Anthony exited. Charlie was left hanging on the hook, blood literally dripping from his body. It ran in tiny rivulets down his torso, then soaking his fresh pants and sliding down his bare feet to the cold, metal floor, puddling like water.

_Please just kill me now_. Charlie found himself wishing to no one really. There had to be a way to just end it, to just kill himself. It was suicide. It was freedom; freedom from the taunting, intense pain that plagued him endlessly.

Without warning, Charlie heard the creak of the door once more and felt the vibrations of more than one pair of feet echo through the floor. They were back. Was Adam with him? Charlie didn't know if he hoped so or not. Perhaps Adam would deliver the final blow and end his suffering?

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Don worked feverishly with his team. Colby and David were examining Adam's house at the moment while Don and Megan worked at the office. Don had gladly let Megan take the photo of Charlie and go over for any clues. He couldn't bear to look at the thing any longer than he had to.

_Focus, Don_.

Don turned back to the file in front of him. It was useless information, all over Adam and his life. The FBI didn't have anything on him, all they had to work with was the files from the court suit. There was only one place, or person, rather, that he could get any more useful info from...

'Megan,' Don began, choosing his words carefully. 'I think that we should talk to Richard Doyle again.'

Megan looked up from her work, her hair swooping down onto her desk. She peered over her glasses for a second before removing them altogether. She chewed on the end of them.

'Why do you say that?' She asked cautiously. 'He said that's all he knew.'

Don sighed. 'I can't help feeling that he would know what his own brother would do. I mean, if I...' Don stopped, choking up on his words. He cleared his throat. 'Well, it's just that they're family, you'd think that Doyle would know more than he's letting on.'

'Ya, I can see that, Don, but there's no chance he'll tell you anything. He wants a deal, and we just can't cut someone like him a break.'

Don leaned his head back, wracking his brain for an answer. 'I don't know. I just feel like we should go talk to him, again. We're not getting any leads here.'

Megan scowled, but could find no retort. She didn't even know why Don bothered to get her permission in the first place; he _was _the lead agent in this team.

'Alright.'

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Twenty minutes later, Megan and Don arrived at the penitentiary. As he flashed his credentials at the gate, Don couldn't help but get a little jittery. He didn't know what he would say to Doyle, or how he would convince him to give them the info they needed. There had to be a pinpoint, a weakness, something they could break down in the killer's tough attitude. The thing was, people like Doyle never had weaknesses like that.

Before Don knew it, they were standing outside Doyle's cell once more. It was too soon, Don still didn't have a plan.

'Eppes...' Doyle called out, rising form his bunk. A too-happy grin filled his face. 'What a surprise. Found your baby brother yet?'

Don's blood boiled at Doyle's light, playful words. He knew that Doyle wasn't responsible for anything, but his attitude was enough to set off anyone as stressed as Don.

Don tried to clench his teeth through the anger as he motioned for the guard to take Doyle out. The guard opened the door with an automatic clatter and cuffed Doyle. He then led the way to the interrogation room.

Megan was about to enter the room with Don when he put his arm across the doorway. 'Please, Megan,' he pleaded. 'Just let me have a minute with him.'

Megan didn't look pleased, her scowl said it all, but she nodded slightly and let Don shut the door as she took up position in the viewing room where a camera showed Don's actions.

Don walked slowly to the other side of the table where Doyle sat, cuffed hands on the tabletop.

'To what do I owe the pleasure, Don?' Doyle asked cheerfully, his eerie aqua eyes boring into Don's.

Don paused for a moment before taking a seat. He reached into his jacket and pulled out the photo. Rather than answer Doyle verbally, he slapped the photo down on the table and slid it to the serial killer across from Don.

Doyle tilted his head, a strange silence filling the room. 'I take it you haven't found him, yet?' he asked, looking up with a smile.

Don clenched his fists under the table, trying to control his overwhelming want to smash Doyle in the face. 'No.' he answered simply.

Doyle sat back up in his seat and looked Don in the eyes once more. Doyle seemed to be searching, going through the contents of Don's heart in the few seconds their eyes locked.

Don looked behind Doyle, not meeting his gaze. 'Where would Adam take him?' Don asked, trying to make his voice as commanding and intimidating as possible.

Doyle leaned back in his metal seat. He laughed suddenly. 'Your guess is as good as mine.' said Doyle, but his eyes spoke otherwise.

Don leaned forward, countering Doyle's actions. 'What do you know, Doyle?' he asked sincerely, trying to find a way through the man's armor.

Doyle again roved over Don's face, studying him for a moment before smiling slightly. 'What's in it for me?'

_How 'bout if you don't tell me, I bust your head open, you bastard?_

'Doyle, you raped and killed eleven young women. Do you really think that anything can get you out of here? In fact, aren't you scheduled for another trial, for something like- death row?' said Don, his voice elevating in anger.

The grin slid off Doyle's face as his emotions registered anger. 'Now don't play like that, Donnie, or you might not ever see little Charlie again.'

Don jumped across the table, reaching for Doyle's neck. Instantly the door swung open and Megan and the guard reached for Don. Megan grabbed his arms, forcing him back.

'Don! Calm down! Don't do this!' She yelled, pulling her boss back from Doyle, who glared into Don with an unprecedented anger.

'Tell me where he is, Doyle!' Don screamed, trying to break free from the grip of Megan and the prison guard.

'Help me, Agent Eppes, and I just might help _you_ find your brother.' replied Doyle calmly. Don settled down, wrenching his arms from Megan before exiting the room with a slam of the door. Within moments, Megan turned and ran after him.

Out in the hall, Don rested his head on the wall, his fists balled beside his head. Megan slowed and approached Don.

'Don,' she said softly, laying a hand on his shoulder. He didn't look up.

'I don't know what to do.' He admitted. 'I can't save Charlie.'

Megan turned Don's face to hers and Don saw raw determination and will in her eyes. 'Donald Eppes, you will not give up. And you will certainly not give up on Charlie. We _will _find him, Don.'

Don looked back at the interrogation room. 'We don't have anything to offer him.'

Megan bit her lip. 'We can stop him from getting the death penalty. God knows he'll have a worse life living in a prison like this than getting the needle.' Megan stared into Don's eyes.

Don nodded. 'Ya, that sounds good, but somehow I get the feeling it won't be enough for Doyle.'

'What are you gonna do?' Megan asked.

'I don't know.' Don answered honestly. He would handle things how they came to him.

He turned back and opened the door. Before he entered he turned his head. 'Thanks, Megan.' he said softly. Megan smiled sadly and nodded.

They both entered the room confidently and Don sat across from Doyle, wearing his no-nonsense face.

'Alright, tell us what you've got.'

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Charlie felt hands pull him down from the hook. The hands slipped in his blood, they couldn't get a good grip on his bloody body, but they laid him down on the metal table nonetheless.

Charlie knew it was time. He was as certain now than he had ever been before. He knew this, he knew this was the answer to his problems, just as he had known that his algorithm had picked up the right guy in Richard Doyle's case. It had all started then. Now it would with Richard's brother. It didn't matter, everything was about to be cut short. The sooner, the better.

'Charles,' came Adam's drawl. 'I'm going to conduct another experiment.'

Charlie didn't know why Adam bothered to announce these things, it wasn't as if he could fight back or prevent them. But maybe _that _was why Adam did them, to make Charlie feel helpless. If so, he had succeeded.

Charlie shuddered in fear as the restraints were placed on his body. _God, please let it be quick._ Charlie recoiled when he felt hands on his bleeding chest. Intense and horrific memories came of Chance's assault. He tried to wriggle away from the hands, but he could not move in the restraints.

'Tsk, tsk, Charles. Calm down. This is the last one, I assure you.'

Charlie felt something cold and sticky on his chest, right above his heart. It felt like jelly or something of the like. He then felt it on his right side as well. He was as confused as he was afraid.

'Is it ready, Anthony?' asked Adam in his calm and steady voice. Charlie did not hear an answer; he didn't know it was because of Anthony simply didn't answer verbally, or if it was the humming he suddenly heard.

Charlie suddenly felt something else cold and smooth on the gel-like material. He was about to open his mouth and say something when he heard a familiar buzz. It was the same buzz that the... electricity had made before.

Before Charlie could react to this revelation and try and stop the impending pain, he felt the electricity surge through his body from the areas that had the gel. An inhuman scream erupted from his mouth as the power shocked his body. It felt like his heart had just done a back flip and then just as suddenly as the pain came, it went. Charlie realized his chest had arced upward as he felt it return to the cold metal of the table. His heart was beating quickly, too quickly, Charlie knew, he didn't have to be a doctor to know that.

Charlie breathed heavily as he willed the sharp tingling in his body away. His death would not be quick, but he did not except anything less form a monster like Adam. _It must run in the family..._

'Again,' Adam called.

_No. No. Please, not again. _

Charlie felt the familiar electricity rip through his body once more. His heart did a three-sixty as a scream that was almost feral escaped him once more.

'PLEASE!' He yelled, thrashing about in his bindings. Again, his chest rose up in the air, almost as if... _no. But I'm not dead. You don't defibrillate living people. _

Again, the pain released its hold on Charlie as his chest hit the table. Charlie's heartbeat was now erratic and irregular even to his own ears. He didn't know how much more of this he could take, literally. The shocks before were different, they weren't aimed at his heart. Charlie didn't know if he could live much longer with the shocks.

'What's wrong Charles?' Adam asked sarcastically, cheerfully. Charlie could almost see his smiling face.

Charlie huffed out in pain, his breath constricting in his throat. He had nothing to lose now. He was going to die, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Somehow, this information did not bother him. It was just time, that was all.

'I...' Charlie struggled to get a breath. 'I hate you.' He said angrily, his voice dripping with cold fury. 'I hate you!'

He didn't know why he said it.

Adam did not reply at first. Then Charlie heard the electrical buzz once again. 'That's okay.' Adam answered as he brought the paddles back to Charlie's body.

Charlie screamed again as the electricity rushed back through his body with a vengeance, it seemed. Suddenly, the power was switched off, but this time Charlie did not feel anything. No pain. No lingering electricity. Nothing.

He could see.

He could see, and all that surrounded him was a white atmosphere of nothingness. He realized he wasn't even standing on anything, he was just floating lazily along in some sort of limbo. He held his hands out in front of his face. He could see that his flesh was untouched, pearly white and perfect. He heard the his name being called. He could hear someone calling out to him. It was a loving voice. Charlie turned to find the owner of the voice, but felt a horrible slam.

Suddenly he could not see again. All that engulfed him was the terrible darkness of the blindfold. He did not hear that voice, whose voice had it been?

And he could feel again, all right. Instead of the quickened beating of his heart from before, it was now sluggishly slow, just like he felt. His brain felt like it had been removed then returned back to his head. Everything was muffled and his reflexes were stuck in quicksand.

'Glad to see you join us again, Dr. Eppes.' Adam said. 'It seems that we lost you for a bit. No matter, time to continue. Anthony...'

'I hate you... I hate you.' Charlie reiterated. His voice was losing the anger now. It was becoming harder to respond, to move his mouth and speak, to use the will to remember why he was here.

Charlie felt the jar of electricity return to him. He screamed weakly in pain as his chest lifted into the air. He could feel his heart speeding up, could feel it losing power, could feel it shutting down. Suddenly Charlie was in limbo again, in the sea of white once more. But before he even had a chance to hear the voice this time, he was slammed into reality again.

'I.. hate... you.' Charlie uttered breathlessly, weakly. His voice had degenerated into a whine by now.

'I hate you too, Charles.' Adam said, and for once, his voice was not mocking and cheerful. It was venomous and full of hatred. 'I hate you too, and I want you to suffer forever. I want you and your brother to suffer forever just I have.'

_Just let me die_, Charlie thought desperately.

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Don rushed out of the interrogation room with Megan hot on his heels. As they neared Don's black SUV, Megan yelled to Don.

'Do you want me to-' she received an answer as Don hopped in the driver's seat and started the engine. She sighed momentarily then jumped in the passenger seat, buckling herself in.

'I'm calling David and Colby.' she announced, flipping open her cell phone.

Don buckled the seatbelt and put the pedal to the metal.

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David was sifting through some meaningless bills of Adam Doyle's as his cell rang. Colby looked over at his partner as David answered.

'Sinclair.'

'David,' was all Megan said, but David could hear it in her voice.

'What is it, Megan?' he asked urgently. Colby picked up on the tone and stood from where he had been examining Adam's computer.

'We know where Charlie is.' That was all David needed to hear. He turned a relieved and eager face to Colby and mouthed _'They know where he is'_. Colby immediately gathered his stuff and walked with David out to the SUV.

'Where, Megan?'

'It's a warehouse in the industrial area of Brown and Valley. Fletcher Street, just off the ten. It's number 1140. Can you call backup?'

'Yeah,' David answered as Colby started the vehicle. 'Should I...' David hated saying it. 'Should I call a bus, too?'

'Yeah...' Megan answered softly.

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It was over. Well, it would be over, any time now.

Charlie counted the seconds of his scream. _One... Two... Three... Four._

Only four seconds of hell, but Charlie was sure that he had already... died twice. It was hard to say it. He had _died_. Twice.

Charlie felt the electricity leave his body abruptly. His heavy and labored breaths filled the silent room. The pain filled his body like none before. Charlie knew that it was coming soon. He could feel his body start to give up. His heart was tiring from the constant shocks. It would not be long.

'I think that's enough, don't you Dr. Eppes?' Adam asked, the rage still evident in his voice.

'You're- You're a monster. You're a sick son of a bitch, just like your worthless brother. You both deserve to rot in Hell.' Charlie stated, his voice equally as angry as Adam's, if not more.'You're a monster.'

Charlie felt a sharp slap to his face that cleared his fuzzy mind somewhat.

'Shut up. You're the monster, you're the worthless piece of shit, Charles.' Adam replied furiously. 'You disgust me. You're filth beneath my feet. I don't know why your brother ever loved you, and I don't know why he would want you back in his life.'

Charlie's grip on consciousness was quickly being relinquished. He had to focus with and use his what time he had left. Without warning, he felt a horrible pain in his right collarbone as something was driven into his skin. It must be a knife, Charlie figured. The knife slowly inched its way down his chest and stomach diagonally. Charlie screamed with new, fresh pain. Finally Adam pulled the blade up when it reached Charlie's left side. Charlie groaned as he felt Adam jab the knife into his left collarbone and repeat the process.

Charlie whimpered in pain as he felt the blade lifted out of his skin. He bit his lip in utter pain, trying to convince himself it would be over soon, very soon. Just then, he felt the restraints being released.

_What? _

Adam lifted Charlie up with ease and let him fall to the floor in a heap. Charlie's back rested on the cool, concrete wall and he felt his life ebbing away like a tide. Yes, it was almost time.

Suddenly there was a clatter above them, and Charlie heard silence in his prison room. He could feel the sudden tension in the room as unseen to his blindfolded eyes, Adam looked to the ceiling in surprise.

'Well, well...' Adam spoke softly. He turned back to Charlie. 'Well, Charles, I guess this is goodbye.'

_Finally_, Charlie thought, resting his head on the wall behind him.

Charlie felt his free hands lifted up to the wall behind him there was a noise of metal on metal. Before he was aware of what the sound meant, Charlie felt a blade driven through his right hand, straight into the wall. Charlie screamed in excruciating pain. This was different, this was not laceration, this was stabbing. _God, please kill me now!_ Charlie was in so much pain he barely noticed his left hand being pulled up to the wall again. He realized what was happening too late though; Adam slammed another blade through clean through Charlie's flesh and into the wall. Again, a scream erupted in the room as the pain tore through Charlie's hands and went seemed to resonate through his whole body.

'I was saving these for later, Charles, but time is of the essence now, I suppose. It was a pleasure knowing you, Charles.' Adam said mockingly. Charlie felt Adam's hands on his arms and then two needles being slid into his veins simultaneously. Charlie could to nothing to fight Adam off. The pain was too consuming for him to even think about resistance. With all the agony he was enduring anyway, the prick of a needle seemed insignificant compared to the rest of his pains.

Charlie dazedly felt the vibrations echo through the floor and wall; he heard blurred banging, vague yelling and the tell-tale swinging of the door being opened and closed. Adam had left him. Chance and Anthony were gone.

Charlie was all alone. He began panting as the chest constrictions began. Charlie knew that it truly was time now. The drugs Adam had injected him with were surely not painkillers, they were other drugs like the ones he had 'experimented' with before. _It's finally over_, Charlie thought. His brain was becoming jumbled as his thoughts turned to irrational and irrelevant matters. He hoped he hadn't left his laptop on. He hoped that someone was filling his classes. He hoped that Don got home, because Charlie never had picked him up.

Random synapses began firing in his head and memories that had no bearing on his situation played in his mind like a fast-forward projector. The thing was, none of his movies had video, they were all just audio. He could hear bits and pieces of Don's first minor league baseball game. Charlie could hear himself whooping for his brother, he could hear his father shouting at the ump in anger. He heard, dear God, _his mother_, shouting in happiness. He heard the pouring rain. He heard Don pat him on the back and say, 'Thanks, buddy, you did a good job today.' He heard his father laugh and ruffle his hair. He heard the hooting of an owl and Amita whispering goodnight in his ear. He heard Larry explaining the quantum forces of black holes. He heard Colby laugh and call him 'The Whiz Kid'. He heard Don. Charlie felt the blindfold soak up his tears. He heard Don say something to him, 'Buddy? It's okay. I've got you now. You're going to be alright.'

Then he heard, then he felt, then he knew, nothing.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- **A/N: Oh, I'm sorry for the cliffie... And would you look at that, a post in two days! It's a miracle!**

**Anyway, this chapter was a beast, and took a while to write. I hope you enjoyed it. Well, maybe not enjoy... poor poor Charlie. Well, at least he won't feel any pain anymore! Leave a comment if you liked it, or leave a comment if you hated it. I'll try to post soon.**


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